Azimuth
by Taransay
Summary: It was dark outside. That is what she always remembered, the darkness and what the darkness brought. Somewhere out there was an infinite number of things that lurked in the darkness of Nosgoth, and not just vampires either.
1. Prologue Child of Glass

**Azimuth, Mortainius etc. © Silicon Knights, Eidos Interactive & Crystal Dynamics**

Thank You and apologies (:P) to Debb who helped with the overall FanFic,   
put up with my weirdness and generally listening to the onslaught of madness   
created by my dear muse.

**Azimuth**  
By Taransay

**Prologue**

**Child of Glass**

I stared at him through unquestioning eyes; I would not give him the satisfaction that I had questions that I demanded to be answered.   
"Are you suggesting that this girl be worth anything?" My fathers voice rumbled on in the background. He was annoyed by his visit and this stranger annoyed him even more so. An annoyance that steamed in pure hatred although I am not certain where it came from, but then my father had a hatred for a majority of things, myself included. 

The stranger had appeared to which he, he being my father, had scoffed and in the pompous manner that was derived from him, he had turned to the stranger and regarded him under a scornful gaze. "This is mockery…"   
"I do not mock my good man." 

We stood, me and father and him, out under the sky of an evening hue, in the middle of the street, my father as usual making a scene. Mother being the gentle delicate woman she was attempted to calm him down. Moments later she retreated to the house holding the side of her face from where he had struck her.

"I don't believe you, this wretch here is nothing, nothing you here me! Her whole life is worthless." To this I cringed as he addressed me so and looked at the stranger that had come to us.

A man of sorts, if you could regard him as that, and yes of course I knew of him, who didn't throughout this land, heavily cloaked in black his whole essence radiated slight forebode. 'Cadaverous' might be the correct word for such a being, and this 'man' had come seeking us.

I gazed up at the stranger in a merciless fashion, my eyes fierce and burning in determination that I was worth more then what my father regarded me as.   
"Why not allow the child to speak?"   
To this simple comment my father nearly choked on his own tongue. "Because her words are worth nothing." he replied, a hiss shaping on the very tip of his tongue. "Now, get out of here before I do something I might regret."   
"I have nothing to fear of you." I heard the stranger reply calmly, and I knew he was right. I knew and understood that with ease he could destroy my father if he so wished, to clench a hold of his very essence and make it crumble as if it was dust. 

"For now I will leave you and your daughter, but only for now." And he left, and to watch him leave I found my own mind screaming, _no don't go._ With invisible hands I grasped out for him, in all senses he was my way of escaping this life, my exit, my rescue.

But he did leave and I was dragged in by my father, back to the house that was my prison and torment. Inside these walls a hundred nightmares could be woven, and I would collect them together, shut them up, close my eyes and pretend that I wasn't here.

I was the outcast, not chosen to be but just born into it. The outcast of the town and of the family, what family there was. I had siblings but most of them had left for families of their own, I was the youngest and forever getting in the way, or so father reckoned. In all accounts he saw me as a nuisance, the plague of the family. Gentle, caring mother doted on me, she saw me as a weak and frail creature that needed extra care… if only she knew… 

On a chair I sat, next to the open fire, emotionless and unmoving as he paced the floor of the house like some savage beast. A grotesque mood appeared upon his face, showing him really for the monster that he was, whilst mother nervously rearranged her thread work in the corner. By now she was used to his moods, as was I, it was all apart of him and our lives and to her and me it was never going to change.

"Is he gone dear?" There was quiver in her voice she attempted to hide as she made her way to the stove. Surprisingly my father was pale, a worried look slowly etching over his face, but as mother spoke his emotion was soon extinguished and instead replaced by that of anger and annoyance.   
"Yes, I sent him packing."   
"Strange, do you really believe…"   
"Quiet woman, I am trying to think." 

Already I felt myself shake inside. I wondered what would follow next, and I found myself praying that mother would remain quiet for her own safety and that of mine. My hands ran roughly over the arms of the chair, with nervousness bore inside of me. My knuckles had grown white from the iconic formation of the fact that I had been gripping the chair too tightly. 

His pace was abruptly stopped within the motion of walking, his eyes glaring at me in some reproachful manner. He came close and dropped beside me on one knee, starring into my eyes and daring me to glance away. I did so only to have my head turned to look at him once more with those rough hands of his. "What do you think girl?"   
I felt my insides grow cold and a shiver grasp at my spine, a stammer already quelling within my throat. "I… I have no opinion Sir." 

His miserable mouth twisted itself into a bitter sneer. "You do when I ask it of you."   
Inside my stomach lurched forwards, ah an opinion, yes I had a thousand of them, but only what my mind knew of. In front of him I acted unseeing and slow minded in hope that he would take pity if ever I strayed wrong. In front of others I displayed the same act, especially to that of the townsfolk and of course they whispered. Tales told of the demonic child that could summon devils at her will. With all the witch hunting that was fortified I am surprised that I survived… and yet something kept me safe, something that the stranger had seen and was now beginning to grasp at.

Slowly I felt my eyes narrow, bitterness… Strange, I was now becoming aware of a new emotion that I had never possessed before, and to this I felt the coldness wrap itself in an embrace around my essence and soul.

"Will you release me Sir? Will you ever let me go?"   
The atmosphere was already tense. My mother's nervous intake of air and then her sentence that showed once more she was trying to calm the situation or at least divert his attention from myself to elsewhere. "Come and have your tea dear." Once more that nervous quiver and then the feeling of sharp pain that graced my own face. 

He had the opinion that if you could shut something away and pretend it didn't exist everything would be fine, which is what many times he did with me. Once more I felt the unfaltering steps of the cold surface of the floor as by my arm he hauled me through the corridor and up the stairs. 

Moments later I was within the small room that was my own, the door being bolted and me starring stubbornly at it whilst my hand attempted to sooth the pain that caressed my face.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and felt my senses leave me, dropping back into the darkness and it welcomed me. It seemed to be the only element that did, the only essence in the world that greeted someone such as myself. In moments such as those it is where I normally dwelled, it was where my own anger collected and manifested, shaping itself into many shapes, voids and voices.

I did not cry, I never really have. If I ever do then the tears are like glass, they are sharp and bite into my own flesh. Tears to me are weakness; if I show weakness then I will be consumed by all those around me.

My mind set to work to sooth my soul. It painted a scene for me, one to which I was no longer afraid, darkness was my companion and no one could ever hurt me. In all accounts the silky threads of shadows protected me. Those that others feared I turned towards for console, and to this I fell asleep.

It was the cold breeze from outside that awoke me, like a cool cold hand caressing my skin to which the pain had now gone. My hand went to my fringe and I brushed it out of my eyes before it was I sat up.

For a while I was seated once more on the edge of the hard bed and looked into a small mirror that mother had given to me. I remember her words as she had given me such a gift. 'Your beautiful my child, never be afraid to look at yourself.' But I was… afraid. And now as my reflection glanced back I felt myself cringe and place the mirror back quickly. My reflection was only there to remind me of how I differed from the others, how it was that I was this 'demonic child', in all accounts a freak. 

The house was silent, respiration from the night sounds outside. I got up to close the window. Out in the distance I heard someone from the night call shout. Their duty was to protect us from the monstrosities such as Vampires, not that I needed protecting.

The breeze within the house from my open window blew threw, it was now that I shut it and as I did so it created a small back draft which made my room door creek slightly. To this I turned and mused upon the thoughts of how odd it was to make such a noise. Had not father locked it like he usually did? I am certain he had, in fact I remember the key turning within the lock and hearing his steady footfalls echo down the corridor.

With curiosity I approached. Whatever the case the door was now open. Maybe mother had unlocked it before going to bed herself. For a moment I thought… Yet what did it matter that the door was now open? One chance was approaching me, which I dared not let go of. And so with all strength that I had at the time I grasped at it, and following my senses I fled the house that had been the shelter and yet dwelling place of my nightmares since I had been born.

Into the night I stepped, merely a child, easy prey for any Vampire that might have passed the night watch, but I didn't fear them, in truth I feared my father more. No, I didn't fear those that preyed upon mortal blood for I knew if I needed it I had something to call forth upon, something that would wrap its essence around me and take me far from harms way.

For just a moment my steps faulted as my mind reacted to what exactly I was doing. What about her? What about mother, the one who had sheltered me when she could? As I stood within the street my mind overall debated on whether I should stay for her sake. Then something else replied, to which it stated that it might have been her who had opened the door, maybe her who was pointing me in this direction. Whatever it was I decided not to linger anymore. With my mind was made up I dared not remain anymore outside the house in case I was seen.

So with this in mind and without another hesitation I took my leave and made way down the street. I was going to find this stranger, the one my father hated, and find out what he wanted - although I am certain that something inside of me already knew. Perhaps I was being summoned, drawn, lead to what was mine for the taking. So I allowed my senses to guide me to him in hope that I was not wrong and in hope that I could leave this town before the monster himself knew I was gone. 

The night air itself was bitter, bitter to suit my own mood, and no one was on the streets, no one that I was interested in seeing anyway. I passed those that were out almost shadow like, to say the very least no one questioned me; they either did not see, did not care or dared not to. The matter was that I could pass by unnoticed to them if I so desired and at times I had done this. Times when my father had been too much to deal with and I had escaped onto the streets of the town. Once more I had escaped, but this time I was certain that I wasn't going to return.

Descending from street to street in all accounts I had no real idea where it was I was going but inside I seemed to have this knowing. The streets stretching out in front, darkness lingering wherever it could - clinging to the corners, grasping a hold of the majority of elements and feeding off those that were afraid of it. My mind was reeling slowly, pulling on the sights it saw, the sounds it heard, the smells it smelt.

The disjointed stone road I had followed faulted ahead, a small wall jutted out and beyond that I was being called.

My hands rested upon the stones, my skin absorbing the cold and moisture of the overall structure that the stones were developed of. It was but a small wall I climbed, perhaps it was the child-like nature which was still in me that compelled me to do so. And at first I slid but it _was_ climbable and I _was_ able to pull myself up to the top. I then satisfied myself by gazing upon the one who I had been searching for.

From the wall I starred down at him, to which he turned suddenly and regarded me.   
"My associate informed me that you would come at your own accord."

I was a child of twelve, small in frame and gazing down at him without fear. Realisation struck to why I had climbed this small wall in the first place, it was so that now it seemed I was near to his own height and not just that of a girls. It was also my own symbolic gesture to show that I was not weak - a way to prove myself.

There was no point in playing slow-witted or shy, he knew that it was all an act and for the first time someone was really seeing who I was.

The wind stirred around us, there was no essence of light and yet I was seeing him clearly as he was seeing me.   
"Your Mortanius." I suddenly announced.   
"You know of me?"   
"Who doesn't?" 

Without hesitation he approached and picked me up, plucking me off the wall.   
"Ah…" He chuckled dryly, his vocal chords echoing, and then he set me down beside him.

Moments past as he gazed down at me, to whom I returned his gaze with that fierce nature that burned inside of me, that nature which was fighting to escape. I felt the flicker of hope ignite itself inside of me. "Tell me, are you here to take him?"   
"Would you like me to?"   
"Do you desire an answer to that?"   
He was taken aback by my sharp replies and questions, statements made that suggested my mind seemed far older then my age, to this he chuckled to himself once more. "No child, I am here to take you."

I gritted my teeth, already I could feel that spark ignite itself inside of me once more, and to the silence I felt my eyes flair slightly. "I am not ready to die."   
He took in the reaction that I had given and yet it didn't disturb him, not like it would have done others. "I was not here to suggest that you are." He gestured. "This, symbolized by our meeting, is just the beginning of your life." 

At that moment I had no idea what he was talking about, only that it had something to do with me, and all those questions I had when I had first met him out on the street with my father, started to resurface once more. Boldly I asked him, my voice as striking and as cold as ice itself. "Do you know of me?"   
"Yes." He replied in very much the same vocals as before. "The child who the town whispers of."   
An even gaze was returned to him. "I am the Demons child." My voice didn't falter at that, in all confidence my voice was strong.

His face remained expressionless. "You are Azimuth," he said. "Guardian to the Pillar of Dimension."


	2. To walk with Death

Chapter One  
_To Walk with Death_

"Do you not feel that you do not fit in, an outcast, like you do not belong." We were walking now, down another road of the town and I was following without question. His words I listened to because they felt right. They fitted who I was. I was an outcast and I certainly did not belong, not to these people anyway.   
"They shun you…" He stopped and knelt next to me. "Because they fear you."

If any other child had heard these words they would probably have protested within a child-like way. 'But why do they fear me, what have I done to them?' And yet inside me I felt this over whelming desire that I wanted them to, I wanted them to fear me and from hearing Mortanius' words explain this I found an odd sort of pleasure developing itself inside of me from such thoughts, but I didn't tell him this.

"Like they shun Vampires?" And with this question I saw him frown.   
"That child, is another matter altogether." The sentence was added with an utmost sigh. I understood straight away that it was a subject he wanted to stay away from. For now I decided that I would respect his wishes but I made sure to note the topic mentally in my head for future talks.

"And my father?" I adverted my gaze to the sky. "My father hates me because he fears me?"   
The question was avoided simultaneously as the other one had. Replied gently with, "You had your mothers love, you still have it now."   
My gaze was back upon him. "My mother is a silly creature who sees good in everything and so loves everything… my father included." To that he had no reply, only that of silence, which in a way answers everything.

"You said I was a Guardian?" A question I expected to hopefully ease the atmosphere that had surrounded us.   
"Yes, the Guardian of Dimension." For a moment, and like any child would, I thought this over. There seemed to be an acceptance to which my mind just acknowledged what he said. Again it… felt right.

A Guardian. I had heard of such people. They were highly known throughout our land, and highly respected. Now, he was claming that I was one. It was irony in the simplest forms, the thought that I, Azimuth was one of them…

Forgotten child who cries tears of glass… The town whispered of such a child, the town shunned such a child and the father despised such a child. And now Mortanius was giving that same child such a title of grandeur. So grand that as of yet she felt the power but did not fully understand it.

I had heard of them, those known distantly to the common folk as 'The Protectors of Hope'. Nine, or there had been, except that before I saw the opening of life, six of them were killed at the hands of the ancient Vampire known as Vorador. At that age that is all I knew of them, that and the understanding that they had the element of power. To this I felt that flame flicker inside of me once more.

"Guardians, they have… magic?" I wrinkled my nose at such a prospect. "Does that mean I have magic as well?"   
He chuckled once more at my childlike ways and observed my overall reaction to the words he had spoke, the way I accepted it just like that, as if it had been the answer to everything.

"Yes, you do. It is why I am here. You have powers but you may not be aware of them or have yet to control them."   
"I see Demons." My response was shot back at him coldly. The words were spoken quickly and in a rushed manner. But it was good to let them out, how many times had I kept that inside of me? I was admitting what the others thought of me; in everything you see of me I truly am the Demons Child.

Mortanius did not reply, just nodded as if to say, 'yes child, I understand'. Perhaps he did, I am not certain, although something inside of me was already beginning to protest. A whisper, '_No Azimuth, he doesn't understand, how could he possibly? None of them understand you Azimuth, no one but us. We understand each other, our child…_' For now I ignored it, that voice, those voices, they contained nothing more but hate and malice. At this point I did not need to draw upon such emotions, and for now I did not want to let those elements show.

I saw other things too, but as of yet I desired not to speak of them. And all this… as a child I had never looked to it as being 'power', no only it to be the overactive mind of a frightened and lonely child. Invisible 'friends' which I could talk to if I so needed it, those that brought comfort with their voices in times when I faced nothing but remoteness. Back then I hushed it as an overactive imagination… I never understood the full potential of my power and strength.

A frown, contemplation on whether I could trust Mortanius to tell him more. He had proved to be my rescue but it did not mean to say that I had to trust him fully.

"If you do not trust me then why are you so eager to follow?" he said as if he had read my mind. And now he had stood up and was once more looking down upon me.  
"You provide me with a way out. I am willing to take it if it gets me away from him."   
"Your choice." Mortanius nodded. "But you won't get far if you don't start to put trust in anyone."   
Oh I had a reply for that, the fact that so far in life trust had got me nowhere. Born to a father who could hardly stand to look at me, and a town that whispered… What trust had I to put in them if they had none to put in me? 

I must admit though that I had trust, and I did put my trust somewhere. But to only those that served me well, and I them. Nevertheless, so far Mortanius had proved to be of service, his words had been kind. So for now I decided that I would in mute silence agree with him even though deep inside that flame was beginning to ignite itself once more. Perhaps it never went out. That flame, merely a flicker, and yet it waited for something stronger to ignite it.

Our path was woven again as our journey resumed to the walk. I followed and yet I had no idea where it was we were going, in all honesty I did not care. For all I knew he could have been leading me to the depths of the underworld and yet I would follow without question. Was I really that determined to leave here, to leave the man who was father only by title?

Where _were_ we going? It did not matter, nothing ever did. All that I considered was what happened now, for tomorrow was but another day. I remember in times when shut in my room I would always hope for tomorrow, praying to myself that in some aspects it would be different. '_A man clamed by a Vampire, left are his wife and child,_' to such thoughts my heart rejoiced.

Footfalls laden upon the cobbled street, it was a reminder to me that we were still progressing forwards. For a moment I listened to them, those footfalls, and then frowned when I could only hear mine. I mused upon this, they whisper of Death being silent and how so right they are. For as Mortanius walked a sound was hardly heard. His pace was as silent as it was ongoing and unfaltering. A couple of times I had to quicken my pace or suddenly run a couple of steps so that I could keep up with him.

Ah yes the only sound heard was that of my feet upon the cobbles and the slight calling of the zephyr which was a gentle caress that lovingly touched strands of my hair and ruffled Mortanius' cloak. It was a presence within itself but one to which I never turned to.

The more we progressed the more the houses began to diminish until it was the edge of the town appeared. Beyond those houses was nothing but vast wilderness and lands to which these eyes had never beheld before. I was eager, I was eager to see it all and I wondered to whether Mortanius would allow me to. Perhaps he was only here to lead me in one direction before leaving me entirely.

Would he do that, leave me to find my own ways upon the paths that entwine our lives? He had taken me from my home, but then I had found him on my own accord. He had not forced me to follow him… yet surely he would take some responsibility, after all was I not apart of his own? He was a Guardian, as was I.

And all these thoughts that passed through my mind, they appeared at their own accord. I thought them over out of curiosity although the over all element of what would happen after we left the town did not really bother me. If Mortanius did not claim responsibility for this child it did not matter. No one else had ever done so why should he? Thoughts that rested upon my mind, in all accounts with this new identity I was curious to see what would happen to me.

I tilted my head back to regard the night and the whitish disk of the moon. To an extent such a sight mesmerized me, but to this in such a movement and gesture my steps faltered and I fell, falling upon the street after not watching my own step.

Pain clamed its hold on my body, that throbbing feeling that heaves itself up through your insides and makes your lungs suddenly gasp for air. It was that kind of fall and that kind of pain that followed.

The coldness of the floor below, hard and damp and as my skin touched the surface I used the example of the stone to that of the elements of peoples own feelings. The coldness they had given me was like the element of this stone, whilst the pain from the fall was the result of their frozen attitudes towards me. It was the symbolic pain that when I was young I had inside of me due to whispers, but I was young and just a child. As I aged I welcomed the coldness and I want to feel it… always.

The taste of copper entered my mouth. I pushed myself up and then upon my knees my hand numbly felt for the crimson element that my tongue had tasted. My lip bled having accidentally bitten into it with the descent of my fall. The result was slight pain and crimson flow. And I embraced it all…

I wanted to feel the pain. If I felt pain then it showed I existed. It meant that I was real, that I was living, and was not just some flicker of imagination that my mother had created in lonely hours. It meant that I was alive.

"Azimuth…" I heard those vocals call upon me once more and looked up. Mortanius had seen me trip and so stopped his own walk, in fact he had not just halted but he was now starting to approach me. I on the other hand took little notice; instead I was looking at my hand, too caught up in the deep crimson sight that smeared itself upon my skin like a red stain. Blood, blood from my bitten lip, not much but how pretty it looked in the moonlight, how beautiful and deadly it looked upon the skin.

I looked up, upholding my hand in an unsure and slightly helpless manner, gazing at him and wondering at the same time what he thought. Did he want me to cry, did he wonder why I did not? Such a child, such a fall and yet I sat on the harsh stone floor a trickle of blood upon the corner of my mouth, gazing up at him like some Demon myself.

"_…Blood…_" A mutter, words spoken as if I had never seen such substance before. A display that almost suggested that I had made some sort of discovery.

I bled… I bled like any other mortal would. I felt pain like any other would. So was I so different from them after all? Blood, yes I had cut myself before, like all children do in a fall or accident due to others. But after the sudden title that was bestowed me I really did start to doubt myself whether to the fact that I had ever been a Mortal child or instead just found by a woman who claimed to be my mother.

Without a word Mortanius took my hand and wiped it clean of what blood there was with the hem of his cloak. My own fall was but a reminder that whatever anyone else said or thought I was still human, I was still mortal. I was not sure whether I was relived at the prospect or more disappointed. After all, did I really want to be Mortal; did I really want to be like them?

"I bleed?"   
"What did you expect?" he replied, satisfying himself that all remains of the blood was now gone from my hand. It was like he thought that if the blood remained then I would attract the attention of those that thirsted for it.

"Guardian's we are, but we also feel pain, wounds may be inflicted upon us and we may die." The last words were morose themselves, as if even the symbolic appearance of Death did not desire death… Or maybe more so it was a passing memory of my predecessors, the fact that even us, we who are chosen and so gifted may see an end.

Vorador's victorious moment and the display of his wounded annihilation over six of us were but a reminder of how our own lives could be easily swept. And with the taste of my own coppery life flow I gritted my teeth. I would grow powerful and no one would sweep me aside, and I will never allow anyone to do so again… no one…

With a swift and yet dull movement of ache I was back upon my feet once more, although my insides still throbbed and my lip felt swollen and bitter. Nonetheless we were set to continue walking. The town was dispersing and up ahead was the outpost for the night watch and beyond, unfolding in a nightly picturesque vista, was a crisp landscape set against the backdrop of a big, open nightly sky of hazy blue and many stars.

My very essence was already soaring and clasping to such an image, already plucking at the dark swift blossom of night clouds that hung limply in the sky. If anyone were to stop me from progressing any further, to turn me back, to deny myself from touching and feeling such elements as that beautiful land then I would scream and my scream would consume all.

I feared that being so close I would be denied leave of this miserable place and not allowed to grace the land of others. Eagerness quelled, eagerness and slight fear as we approached the night watch. What if they alone were allowed to keep me here? The image was too clear in my mind, them telling Mortanius that such a child as I was not allowed to leave this town. I narrowed my eyes, yes, I could see such a nightmare unfolding, getting ready to take a hold of me, pluck me from my freedom and throw me back into the nightmare.

It was all a ridicules illusion of course, for they had no hold over me. It was an illusion, a fantasy created by my worried mind and yet eager heart. So close was I that   
I expected nothing but to find myself dragged back. And I knew if I were to be dragged back to where I had come from then all would consume me and I would die.

Yet something swiftly reminded me that if they dare attempt such a thing then something would happen, although I was not sure what. To this the voices teased me, whispering '_just be patient child if anything happens then you shall see._' And to these words my insides glowed with an overwhelming feeling. I felt protected from all, and with Mortanius here, I put my faith in him that now he knew I wanted to be what he said I was, then he would make sure I left with him or die here. I dared not to think what would happen if anyone argued with him, though in truth I already knew.

My eyes fell upon some men in dented armour near a makeshift substitute that was used for an outpost. These men were the 'leftovers' of the night watch. A trifle group of men who littered the boarders of our town swearing to protect us from Vampires. They had no real skill, just men who were inspired by the whole sense of 'witch hunting'. Occasionally they would rally with others, moved and motivated by the words of the snake himself. They were overall excited by his words and prospect and so fortified themselves. Of course there were those who were trained to hunt, and these goaded the other men of the town to help out; after all it was there town and their land so it was their responsibility to help keep safe those within.

Those that stood on guard at this outpost were now looking upon the Necromancer who wiped the remaining small tears of blood from a child's face before resting a hand upon her shoulder to guide her forwards.

With every intense breath within me, the nervousness of myself, we approached. No reaction was stirred apart from some who nodded formerly in Mortanius direction, they of course knew of him. Like I had said, who did not?

When they looked upon me I felt my head and gaze avert itself to the ground. Back then it was a natural reaction, one I had done in hope of not drawing attention or trouble to myself. Their eyes upon me and I could feel their questions, questions that ran through their minds. Who was I exactly?

To this I felt another gaze pierce through, a gaze I recognized distantly. I looked up now, interested to see whom it was who was taking notice of me, and I felt my eyes shine with the sudden feeling that graced my soul.

There that one, one whose mind was intense with questions. He knew of me and already my insides were chilled. If anyone could stop me from going any further it would be him, an acquaintance of my fathers, someone he spent time in the tavern with.

But I was determined; and at the same time I was worried that he would question where I was going. '_Look at him…_' and I did so. I returned his gaze with one of my own, and upon my lips I suddenly realized that they were hinted with the hue of a sinister smile. That flame inside of me alight and burning, something inside of me spurring me to become something more then what I was and not to shy away.

I now wanted him to tell my father that he had seen me leave. My mind revelled on such thoughts of the anger that my father might feel when his acquaintance told him so, the fact that I would be far from his clasp. Through voices in my mind I dared this acquaintance of my father's to respond.

'Tell him, tell him that you saw his daughter the night she went missing… You saw his daughter leave his grasps forever as she walked the roads with Death…'


	3. Awakening

**Chapter Two  
**_Awakening _

Sun, glacial rays that pierced the thin membrane of my eyelids and beckoned me to open them and embrace what was. But I lay unmoving, dormant, resting and yet thinking upon all thoughts that came to me.

I awoke to the fresh smell of morning and turned, deep within blankets and a soft mattress. It seemed I had slept and yet I had no memory of actually falling asleep, only that of endless walking. I breathed in the deep scents that surrounded me, a slight musty smell that had been brushed aside with the floral scent of popery. It was a motherly smell, one that my own mother had crafted herself. And as beautiful this essence was to the room, it felt false. In all the prettiness that the floral aroma beheld there was something else that disturbed what could have been quite an atmosphere of niceties. Still it was relaxing and quiet, and restful… Within honesty I could have stayed this way forever.

Underneath the touch of my hands the blanket was rough, but it provided me with warmth and comfort. This rest was all that I needed. Time to heal, heal my soul and overall mental state. With each breath I took I felt my mind sigh. Sigh with the fact that I had survived in that nightmare for so long, and how come I had? How was it that I was still here despite everything?

Perhaps I was not… perhaps this was what happened after life, this eternal rest where you slept forever under the comfort that no more would anyone trouble you, or hurt you, or torment you. The Guardian of Death had come to me and taken my life - the pitiful essence of me, and I was now upon the echoes of another realm.

Abruptly there was a sound that suddenly jerked me out of rest and startled me beyond my senses. It sounded as if something had been dropped, and my body was tensed with the reaction of fright. The fact that peace and quiet had been lain throughout only to be disturbed by the carelessness of another.

A sickening feeling overwhelmed me; maybe my mother had created that noise, having dropped something in an anxious moment before the fiend could lash out at her. I wanted to call out to her, a warning that quelled within my throat. I wanted to shout at him, that bastard who reduced her and me to nothing. That pent up anger that threatened to violently erupt at any given moment, I felt it. It was there, always, it graces me now. That lingering essence that takes hold, and yet in a strange way the anger is almost soothing, it is in many ways power itself. Where the power stems from, the fuel, and the very core that ignites the flame that never goes out.

With this dreading feeling I sat up very quickly, almost jolting my senses to a point, whilst with weary hands I rubbed my eyes, my heart racing until my sight fully adjusted itself to that of the room.

Like mist fading into the rays of a sunrise, my vision cleared and I looked around. It was a simple room with bare walls and curtains that covered the windows to which the sun now peered through, whilst a desk was positioned near one of the windows. At the desk with his back turned to me sat a darkened figure. The room itself was nothing glamorous but far better then what I had seen as a child.

At first I had thought it had all been a reverie, or perhaps I had dreamt so hard to be away from that place that I had been brought here by some unexplained miracle. Yet, seeing the symbolic reference to Death sitting at the desk like he did told me otherwise. I soon came to understand that what I was gazing on was the opaque realness of reality.

Upon the wooden floor knelt a woman who served as a maid although she looked like she would be more suited behind a bar instead of tidying a room. Her hands ran over broken pottery. So that was what had made the noise and so quickly brought me out of the cherishing embrace of sleep.

Each piece of pottery she picked up with extended care. The pieces were then swiftly placed within the washbowl that was still intact, having survived the fate of its companion that now lay broken upon the floor. No doubts it had just been the jug that had been dropped, and spilt water upon the floor denoted this even more so.

From watching her I could see how nervous she was, slight embarrassment written upon her features in that of a blush gently painted her skin. Mortanius took very little notice; he seemed more interested in whatever he was doing.

In mute silence he sat at the desk and carried on as if nothing had happened. Clearly the broken water jug had not startled him, and I wondered to whether he had emotions or any nerves at all. I believed that there had to be something there, some flicker of sentiment and yet it seemed whatever the case was, the jug being smashed upon the floor had not disturbed him in the slightest. In truth it had more effect on the servant and of course myself then it had on him.

"Deepest apologies my lord." Yet another request for forgiveness that she added to the overall formation of apologies she had spoken of beforehand. In response Mortanius wavered a hand and looked up from whatever he had been doing.   
"You may leave now." he said.

The servant curtseyed. It was in an utmost loyal gesture of respect, and yet at the same time it was done stiffly, another suggestion that she was far used to working in a tavern then making beds. "Anything else you need my lord?"   
He shook his head and she left closing the door whilst silence crept in and became the dominant element once more.

I sat still, used to the whole idea that I was to remain silent until I was needed, as that had been one of the rules of my household, something father had been quite accustomed to. And so as moments passed I took interest in the room once more, watching the dust particles dance and float in what sunlight managed to filter through the shut curtains.

With wonder I could not help but question where we were and how we had gotten here. My senses told me that we were no longer in the town where I had lived all my young life, and backing up this theory was the distant memories of seeing the boarder of the town. Curiosity surfaced to how far we had travelled for I had no real idea, just memories of leaving the town, the triumphant yet eager beat of my heart and the overwhelming feeling that took a hold of my senses, and of course the endless pace of unfaltering walk.

In this new place, a place that I had obviously not seen before due to the fact that I had never left my town, I could not help but be inquisitive. Curious to explore and look around, to see what this place was like, and yet at the same time, slightly nervous. Nervous… nervous of what had happened, my leaving of the town, the only place I had known and leaving my family of what there was. Cruel my father had been but I knew no different. Now, here I was.

I was too desperate to escape the night before, too caught up in leaving to allow nervousness to even exist. And now that one element was apparent in me. But what was this? Azimuth, nervous? I knew straight away that it was something, this 'nervousness', that I must learn to control.

My eyes fell upon the one who had come for me, my rescuer, my escape. He had come in the form of Death, but not to bring an end to this, but instead to release me. I was twelve, a child, unaccountable for myself and so my fate, for now, rested in Death's hands.

Was that where my element of nervousness evolved from, despite the fact that, as I had stated before, I desired to leave that hellish place of dwelling and to the point that I did not care about what happened to me afterwards. To not care… In a slight way I did, I must have done otherwise I would not have been feeling nervous. But I say 'slight' due to the fact it was only slight. At the end of the day I was away from father. Did anything else really matter?

"I see that you are awake." My thoughts shattered at the sound of those vocals. Had that been a question or a statement? I answered with a nod and then realised that he still had his back turned on me and so I spoke up with a 'yes'.

Again I sat still. The overall atmosphere was rigid and yet only on my behalf, for once more I noticed that Mortanius took little notice. Still sitting at the desk, I watched him and upon doing so I discovered what he was doing. Writing, he was writing, the quill etching away quickly at the parchment, a slight sound of the tip scratching against the papyrus and as it did so the ink was delivered upon the parchment in lettering that others would be able to read.

In a way this gesture and mannerism confused me. Surely someone of his power would not write, surely they had other ways and by far quicker means of contact?

"You are writing?" My voice picked up within the atmosphere of the room.   
"Yes, to an associate of mine."   
From before I remembered his words, he had spoke of this 'associate' the night before. "The one who told you I would come on my own accord?"   
He replied with a 'yes' once more and then dipped the quill within the ink poising it ready to write some more. 

My forehead crinkled with question. "Don't you have magic, magic that would help you get a message to someone a whole lot quicker?"   
He finished off his letter and then halted, he seemed to think upon this. The quill was placed gently down upon the desk, the parchment left to one side so that the ink could dry without fear of smudging what he had crafted. 

"Sometimes you speak as if your older then you appear to be and yet…" I saw a frown and I myself was now frowning, interested and contemplating what he was going to say next. "… Yet you still have a manner about you that suggests you are but a child."   
What was this, kind words and then… was he patronizing me? 

"Do you think powers are the answer to everything?" Mortanius turned within his chair and regarded me. "Power is used to help others, not to make our lives easier." He saw my frown deepen as he said this. It was not the first time he spoke that we should use our 'gifts' to help the populace, and not indulge ourselves by acknowledging our powers over others. It was a lecture I found myself receiving off him often. 

"You are still young, which is a good thing." He began to look thoughtful once more. "You have a lot of time ahead of you. In such ways you must consider the overall use of your power." I noticed that again he became distant, as if he really was considering something, another memory? It seems he was always thinking of something. Perhaps the past haunted him in many ways that the others and I would never understand.

"Our powers cannot be used for everything, it simply does not work this way. There is a certain element of 'Balance' that needs to be considered. Still…" The figure of Death stood up from the chair and approached the window, to which his bony fingers entwined themselves around the edge of one curtain. "If I am honest I like writing and using that as my form of contact. The simplest and plainest ways can sometimes be the ones that are best."

He pulled upon the curtain, drawing it across and allowing the sun to sweep into the room. With the sudden brightness of light I found myself squinting and using my hands to shade my eyes. 

These simple ways of doing things is what every other Mortal does, and I am different from them. In pure honesty I am quite happy to use my powers to their full extent to achieve my goals, and this, in time, Mortanius would learn.

From his words came silence as he too regarded what he had said and whether I would understand them. I did of course but I also see things differently as does everyone else.

Mortanius left the window to return to the desk. He picked up the parchment and regarded it, the ink was now dry and it awaited his approval.

I began to lie back into the warmth of the bed once more when he suddenly announced that he was going somewhere.

"You are leaving?" Again I sat up, trying to bring my voice tone down a level to make it sound that I was not bothered in the slightest, and wincing slightly as my insides reminded me of the bruises from yesterdays fall. They were not bad but sore enough to remind me that next time I should watch where I am going.

"I'll be back before nightfall." he told me as he sealed the parchment and placed it within one of the many folds of his black cloak. "Would you like a message passed on to your mother, to say that you are safe?" 

Automatically I thought of Mortanius writing a little note to my mother to state that I was fine and safe, and then my father if he caught sight of the letter. What he would think? No, although I wanted mother to be reassured at the same time I wanted my father to suffer. Not that he would worry for me because he would not, but my mind developed pleasure in trying to imagine what his face would be like when he discovered that I was gone… Then the words from his acquaintance that he saw me that night 'as she walked the roads with Death…' I had escaped him, and I drew pleasure from the thought.

"A useless gesture." I answered in return and then bit my tongue at the overall manner that that reply had been stated in. "No disrespect, my mother cannot read." And neither could I at the time. There had been no reason for me to learn, but then I was just one example of other families. Only the well-educated people and those among the towns that had taught themselves could read. Though even if I had the chance to learn such a thing I am sure that father would have put a stop to it. In his eyes I did not deserve such a luxury. 

Slowly I pulled myself out of the mass of blanket and warmth, positioning myself so that now I was sat upon the edge of the bed. "Where are you going?" I was generally interested, and wondered to whether I would be allowed to come as well.   
"To get someone to pass on this message."   
"Surely that will not take you till nightfall to do such a task?" Already I was allowing Mortanius to glimpse at who I really was, a curious child... The type of child, or more importantly the 'being', I was. 

My overall speech and gestures, mannerisms and glances, were but the thin surface of me, Azimuth. I was not quite what I seemed, I never am… The whole shyness, and slowness that I had displayed before in my own town, the timid Azimuth, it was all but an act. Yet of course Mortanius, as pointed out before hand, saw through it all. Clearly he understood that there was more to me, and even he had not seen the full extent of this yet.

"No," Mortanius went on to say. "There are other things that I need to attend to, things that do not involve Dimension." Gruffly put, but I understood and respected that there were things he had to see to, no doubts linked towards his Guardianship. Still, I was certain that at least it would give me some time alone to explore this place. After all it was the first time that I had left the hellish town, and now it was time to greet places of Nosgoth that I had never even imaged.

Unfortunately for me Mortanius was to put a stop to this. Perhaps it was the slight excitement of the prospect of exploring which lit up in my eyes that made Mortanius see my hopefulness of wanting to explore before I even said anything. Whatever it was he put a stop to it.

"Azimuth." I looked up as he spoke my name. "Whilst I am gone I want you to remain here, in this tavern and in this room." Spoken with sternness and yet not so harsh. Why so? Maybe he should have spoken in the harsh manner that my father had used often times, or ordered me to stay put.

"I do not want you to leave and go out on your own, not at the moment."   
To this I frowned again and cast my glance away. I was being stubborn and yet my gaze remained as empty as ever. What was this, Death worrying for the waif of Demons? 

"It is for your safety that I ask this of you. You understand do you not? As a Guardian you now have responsibilities, not only that but it makes you the ideal target…" His words trailed off, I understood what he was saying. I was the ideal target for anyone who was disgruntled with the Circle, mainly those being of Vampiric essence. 

"I understand." A reply made loosely, my gaze still adverted off elsewhere. I said I understood but no promise was made.

"Good." He shifted stance and headed towards the doorway. "As I said, I will be back before nightfall."

The door was opened and then shut after him. As Death left so the atmosphere resumed, almost relaxing within itself, as if to sigh. I sighed myself and came to realise that even I had been weary within his presence. Perhaps it was but a natural reaction that our own bodies automatically do. Nevertheless, he left, leaving me to study the room once more.

Moments after I rose and busied myself, opening the curtains fully, my hands running down the rough, and slightly ragged material in hope of tidying them up. I then applied my attention to the small desk Mortanius had sat at. Nothing needed tidying here but I sat down on the chair nonetheless, and from it I started to draw a slight comfort from the scene. All these movements and gestures done to keep my mind occupied and interested, lest it would wonder.

An open window, to which I heard the swift breeze from outside and a distant smell of rotting vegetables that lingered on the streets outside. It caused me to contemplate the whole scene. In a result I frowned for there was nothing glamorous within this place. In fact in a mysterious disturbing thought it had the same elements of home. 

Same atmosphere, same smells… I found myself slightly disappointed as I leant out of the window and looked at the scene below. Maybe all the towns were like this, all the same, no allure, none at all. And the stories I had heard of beautiful, glistening towns and cities had all be a lie and nothing more. But I did not linger on these thoughts. What rights had I yet to judge when I had still yet to see things? Deep inside I hoped that these places I had heard snatches of information about were true and that I would see them. 

But it was a reminder, this town that was not my own. A constant reminder that I was away from him and so should savour the moments for all they were worth, where ever it was I was at the moment. Besides had this not been what I wanted, to see Nosgoth throughout? Indeed, it was. 

The brief passing of time brought the woman servant to the room once more. As she entered she spoke of how Mortanius had sent her, having explained that she was to clean me up to the best of her abilities. I noticed straight away that she was carrying a new terracotta jug of replenished water, and as my eyes wondered the room I scowled. A scowl that made me look more the misfit with a sense of a forgotten child. And of course, I was exactly that. But this scene would awaken something, foolish woman…

Cold water hit my skin making me grit my teeth and scrunch up my nose with the sudden change in temperature that came from the element. The servant set to work once more. As she washed my face and hands I mused upon the thoughts of cleanliness. With this came the thoughts of 'Purity' and what those that whispered of the town, including my father, had thought of me. Did they see some dirt of evilness upon me that they could never cleanse and purify? As my hair was being untangled a slight smile made its way across my lips and face. A grim embrace of thoughts…

Tangles and knots were pulled out my hair, my head was yanked back slightly with the sudden force as friction from a tight lug within the tangles was pulled loose. I winced but no other sound was made, not even a yelp.

A pause as her drudgery was interrupted. She apologized for tugging, and then she began to turn me slowly so that she could pursue sorting out threads of my hair into an orderly fashion. I gave no reply, brooding slightly at the pain that had nipped at my scalp. Any harder and she would have pulled those strands of hair out.

Her attention was then fixed upon tidying my fringe. Carefully she went to push some strands away and out of my eyes. What happened next was a natural reaction. One that is always done in response as someone is about to do something which is evading upon who you are.

Quickly my hand came up in defence to push hers away, I could not allow her to part my fringe, for underneath that layer of hair was something that separated me from the rest of them. It was something emblematic to them and myself; it was my curse that aided my Gift.

It was my mark, my symbolic reference, and the overall element that separated me from the rest and what made me the child of Unspoken Elements.

In my timid response she attempted to console me with a sweet and sympathetic smile. I was now seen in her eyes as the poor misunderstood child who was timid due to obviously having a rough upbringing, which then resulted to this child being withdrawn. And this lonesome child was now timid even more so. The slightest pain to make her flinch and run, and she put it down to having accidentally tugged on my hair. _If only she knew…_ Yes, I saw it in her mind… what she thought, why I was shying away, because having my hair combed hurt me and hurt was a reminder of what I had suffered.

But my shying away was now done for her own benefit, _her own…_

"Child, I just want to tidy the rest of your hair." she stated with utmost calmness. Her hand came up once more to push away the threads, but my fringe covered what it did for a reason.

I knew what she had discovered when her face paled. Her skin went almost grey to a point and her eyes wide, startled, and I became aware of her fear.

"_Demon…_" Barely a whisper, oh that familiar word, in all honesty she did not believe what she was seeing.

Abruptly I pushed away her hand harshly away. She should have took heed to my warnings, foolish woman. And amidst my fear of her discovery I found annoyance growing within myself, like some dark seed that had been planted by my father. The majority of my childhood had been wrecked and remoulded and crafted into something from nightmares due to that man. And after all those years, my own anger, my own nature was only now beginning to rise. Azimuth… Azimuth was beginning to break free, as were those that guarded her.

They, for the first time were making their presence apparent to others…

I became aware of Them, I was always aware of them, ever since I had been an infant. The Shadows that lingered in the darkness… But that is all They did do, linger… because They could not break through, or so They said. And at that point, as such a child, I did not understand what They were saying. Break through, break through what? 

With utmost patience they would try to explain of a barrier, one They could not break. I did not fully understand and their whispers would be broken when my father unleashed his anger in spontaneous moments when he just would. And everything inflicted upon me was woven into Their anger. Within my anguish Their angry cries would break through, and yet it was only I who could hear them.

However, sometimes, sometimes when Their anguish would fulfil mine others would hear their wails. Being as ignorant as they were they would whisper in mumbled tones 'it is but the wind'.

Whispers from Them would continue throughout my childhood. They were my comfort the majority of the times and They would speak more of how They were 'trapped'. My understanding of this concept was still distant but patience from Them was always apparent. They were the only ones that understood me throughout, knowing who Azimuth really was. 

The water jug was thrust upon the floor, its pieces breaking in an almost exaggerated manner. The water spilling in an almost gesture of symbolic blood flow. My annoyance was stemmed to Them, They feared for my safety as They have always done. Now, like me, They were rebelling.

Trapped and unable to manifest here properly, They may have been, but They were still strong enough to create damage… And the sound of the jug breaking was Their statement beyond truth…


	4. The Statement of Truth

**Chapter Three  
** _The Statement of Truth_

For a moment hush was present, hush and the rushed breathing of the servant who was now struck into suppressed quietness, no doubtfully gagging on her own tongue which sprung forth such words.

"_Demon…_" she murmured once more, unable to string a sentence together.   
"Yes." I replied feeling the confidence inside me soar. "You are correct. Demon, that is what they all say, that is what they all whisper." My voice never faulted, it was as cold as it had been when confronting Mortanius.

Out of slight humour for myself I added, "A Demonic child crafted by Mortanius himself." I found her fear most satisfying and was all too suddenly becoming drunk on the thoughts. The fact that for once I was not the one who was frightened, and that I had power over someone else.

A noise diverted my gaze to another position within the room. Silence was shattered again and now lay fragmented when one of the curtains was dragged off the wooden rail by what seemed like an invisible hand. The fabric was thrown to the floor in a rough and useless manner. The Wooden rail was the next to collapse, following the descent of the curtains and falling to the floor with a heavy clank as wood pole hit wooden surface.

Again, no sound. Silence had been fractured and was too far away to be of any comfort. Instead of the stillness of something ending this was but the silence of something just beginning. Above all it was very much the lull before the storm. A gesture that was a permanent marker, indeed the rising from ashes, chaos stirring, dormant powers awakening…

From the beginning of Their first statement other gestures followed swiftly. The curtain fabric torn, torn just like the fabric of this world. An unearthly feel descended upon the room, creeping in from places unimagined, light chased from the room as darkness called in an unearthly voice. From corners shadows loomed inwards and no longer did the sun shine through the windows. That smell of popery became lost when the smell of fear rose. Such a smell of prettiness, such sites of prettiness, were chocked from this room, any feeling of assurance was being strangled.

A vase of flowers upon the window ledge clattered to the floor. The flowers were shredded in apparent bloody pieces. And as everything happened the servant flinched in response, as each item was wrecked with such a ruthless manner and little regard for any other but myself. The bowl that had been filled with water from the jug was lifted from the ground and then dropped upon the floor, the liquefied element spreading and seeping throughout.

A feeling of power was rectified, the constant clatter about the room, the feel of an ethereal storm that was so suddenly created. More stuff to destroy, that utmost invisible hand ran along the surface of the desk, such a quick gesture to swipe things away.

And all through the chaos that was woven I was caught up in the delight of the response They were giving. The overall protection that I was receiving as things around me fell apart. 

I was Drunk upon her fear, which I fed from like Vampires feed from blood. I imagined that I saw Them and the dances they wove. The way They reached out for her with Their misshapen claws, calling such things that only I could hear. And then she screamed.

When I heard her scream I was shook violently back into my senses and reality. Her scream, it broke out around us. Others would hear. But it was not that which had brought me out of the drunken state. It was the fact that I realised everything They did was done by Them, and I had no control.

Again she screamed and I became aware that there were people coming, running up the stairs, having no doubt heard the bells of chaos ringing, items being destroyed and then her screams.

In response to such the heavy bolt upon the door was turned. The bolt slid across quickly with the resonance of grinding metal. I had not locked such a contraption; it was instead Their own doing, their own gesture.

Heavy banging upon the door, some voices and then another voice breaking through the ruckus, asking and wanting to know what the hell was going on. 

They saw that voice as an intrusion; it only annoyed Them more to which They demonstrated this by picking up the broken jug and throwing it across the room. It hit abruptly against the door with a heavy clatter. The servant flinched once more. Her screams had quieted down and now she just seemed to be in shock, stammering slightly. Her eyes blood shot, tear stained and glary, perhaps she thought this was nothing more then a surreal dream.

"I warned you." I stated starring at her and standing in a stance that was almost stone like, and then another sudden jolt on the door as those outside attempted to get in and I stepped away. From that moment I understood that I had better leave this place.

I quickly approached one of the windows and flung it open. My heart was beginning to race, my pulsation quelling in my own throat. Their anger, although done in a rage mirroring my own anxiety of the servant's discovery, put me in danger, danger from the men that were trying to enter the room.

I discovered something, with every palpitation of my anger so Their advancement continued and with every worry that I beheld so Their onslaught worsened. The sound of Their presence was almost becoming deafening.

There was a sudden gust of wind from outside as the latch opened and the window jutted open. I gazed downwards. Below the window was the roof of another building, not that much a drop but it was still enough to make me hesitate. My hands latched onto the window ledge and I pulled myself quickly up. For a moment I turned to see what melee was being acted out behind me.

I will admit I was reluctant to just suddenly 'leap' out the window. But then my mind was easily persuaded, for I would rather do that then be caught by them. And the persuasion of my mind was created by the images I recalled from times with father, what he had done when annoyed with me. No, I would rather jump and let fate take a hold then wait to face their wrath. 

The servant was in position by the door. Meanwhile each thing collapsed within itself with such supernatural force that They could create.

For moments there seemed to be a struggle between her and Them as she attempted to open the door, her hands challenging to force the bolt back in hope that she could exit the nightmare that waltzed around her. And within my mind I could hear Their laughter of her desperate state, the way They drew pleasure from it like I had drew pleasure from her fear. 

To see her like that ignited Their souls and with their joyous calls They attempted to take me with them, to wrap me deep within Their own power over someone else and the essence that They drew from it throughout.

I closed my eyes and savoured it all, breathing in deep of the quintessence They took from Their display of power. At such a time I could almost feel myself drift, like I was caught up within something, something… more. And oh how the feeling of being able to suddenly fade took place! The emotion within the room, the taste and smell of fear fuelled the notion of being able to and for a sudden moment I was nearly drowning within. It was like I was being pulled by Them, pulled to wherever They wished me to be drawn. And the feelings that I had felt, the anxiety was being lost in an overwhelming current that wished, that wanted to take a hold and all I had to do was to allow it to. 

But an eruption of noise came through, and my connection was broken, broken by that sudden noise. Urgent were those outside, urgent to get into this room, and the door was taking all the punishment that they could deliverer in their attempt to enter.

My eyes shot open as the room materialised into sight once more. What a strange feeling that had been. For a moment I wondered to what could have happened. I had never experienced that before… never. I could have sworn that I saw Them, Them and the world They inhabited. But as the door threatened to break any given moment my restlessness for the situation came back and I was soon to forget such an experience.

Finally They grew board with the whole situation. They grew bored with toying with her, and I watched perched on the windows ledge as they swiped the servant aside. A careless gesture, one done with not much thought, and one that resulted in her hitting the wall with a sickening sound and then descending to the floor like some doll.

I watched with vivid fascination as she lay unmoving, a trickle of blood starting to make way down the side of her face, her eyes staring out blankly before they fluttered and closed. Then the final requiem as the objects that had taken flight by invisible grasps were dropped to the floor, a heavy sound followed as what was not broken before broke now.

My chest rose and fell with added anticipation. The dust of hush emerged from shattered moments; quietness stepped in to regain its place of dominance. I gripped on tightly to where it was I perched, apprehensive with what might happen now. I was not frightened, not of Them, not of those that had been my protectors. But I was frightened of those that were still trying to get in.

Men, three of them I suspected, trying to force open the door whilst another called the servants name. I glanced at the fallen body of the servant, she did not respond and I had not expected her to.

With the sound of grating metal the bolt on the door was pushed back and with added force three men, the ones that had banged on the door, stumbled into the room suddenly surprised by the fact that door was now open. 'They' were allowing them to enter, but I could not help but think at what cost.

Automatically the first place in the room they rushed to be was where the female servant lay. Still I knelt upon the ledge, holding on tightly and casting an image of someone who had just been caught breaking into a room and stunned with sudden speechlessness. Yet I was still gazing at them and still wondering what would happen.

Abruptly one of them came to sense my eyes upon their backs and he turned, returning my gaze with one of his own. Unconsciously and like some savage beast I felt a hiss escape my lips in some warning that if he dare come near…

My mind became an open fracture to past torment and hurt at the one that had always foreshadowed my life as a child, that one known as father. Perhaps the hiss was the disgust I felt for him which was then reflected upon any man that seemed 'hand fisted'.

The man stood up and I noticed that his hand was instinctively going to a dagger at his waste. I remember looking upon his dagger for a quick moment because it was beautiful in the simplest of ways. In my mind, as it froze over with the coldness of my attitude, I fancied having that dagger for myself, deciding that it would look far better within my grasps then in his.

A nightmarish image of me with the dagger and blood painting its delicate blade grew within my mind, and my confidence sprung from such a thing.

"_Monstrous child._" He denounced me with such a title that long ago I had already accepted.   
"Stay back…" I warned, now beginning to rise, bending slightly with the way the roof curved, as a frown caressed his face. I was becoming aware of the change in myself, the way I had consumed my anxiety and was taking a grip of fear and dispelling it. After all had I not witnessed the damage They could do? And inside I acknowledged this and understood that while They were here I had absolutely nothing to fear of anyone.

"Careful, They watch you Sir." Again another warning. I did not really care that much for him, but I thought that I would warn him about the danger nonetheless, in hope that he would keep his distance from me and possibly so that he could grasp at the element of the power that shielded me. For that alone made me feel superior.

"You can do nothing to me child." Those words, full of spite, and gently I smiled at him.   
"Why?" A question asked, my voice striking bitter ice in the room, an unnatural tone for such a child. "Who protects you Sir?"

Behind him the other men were tending to the woman. One man lifted her up and quickly exited giving me a weary look; the other one then joined his companion who now faced me. I scoffed, what was this? Who were they; some holy images come to exorcise me, to purify this child? I narrowed my eyes and embraced my guardians.

With the wind from outside against me I took another gaze at the man. Behind him broken pieces of pottery lay on the floor, dangerous in all intent, shaped like long glacial daggers. I favoured the thoughts of seeing them begin to move, as it was these two men began to approach me. Confidence shown through their eyes and I, I was fooling them.

Within my mind I was propelling and warping their minds… 'Just a child, a harmless child, but a child that is spawn to something more powerful then you will ever know.' And in their confidence they forgot or simply did not believe that I had watchers and that They were watching them, and those delightful shards of pottery were beginning to take life… Quivering on the ground slightly as if responding to the gift of life.

I knew what I had to do. I was being instructed to leave the room and my only way of escape was this open window.

"They love your soul Sir." Another smile. His face clouded over with complexity of my words, and I could see what thoughts progressed through his mind, that I was apparently mad.

"They see your life ebb its way through you…" I took not much notice of his companion, for he was not much of a threat, just a bystander. "And They want it." 

No notion of understanding what so ever, but I found the situation of his perplexity amusing to see at the very least, and with that I took my leave.

The outside opened out to me, my hands slipped from the ledge and I dropped to the roof below. I was gone before they even realised, for they had not expected for a child such as myself to just suddenly jump.

On impact I was winded briefly. A groan escaped me as I landed in a crouched position before sliding sideward with the slope of the roof. With gritted teeth my hands worked at taking a grip of something to stop me from falling anymore. But I continued to slide until it was I dug my feet into the surface of the roof and pulled myself up carefully into standing.

Within my body I was throbbing. My knees vaguely hurt from the small drop, but hurting even more were the bruises that showed of my fall the night before. It did not matter though, and I was able to push such thoughts of aching aside and continue in haste with my aim of escape.

A noise from within that room, and as I was abiding my escape I took one last look at the window. I already understood what had happened; shards of icicle thin draw upon blood from within…

The child inside of me was exhausted but my body was responding to the natural reaction of fleeing. And before long I was slipping and sliding in my overall effort of prolongation in escape before finally reaching the ground.

I coughed and regained breath upon my knees, shivering more from coldness then fright, sudden coldness of the rawness of bitter hatred consequential to others. Nevertheless, I was soon to get up once more and to continue hurrying onwards, heading away from the Tavern lest be caught by any that might suddenly attempt to head off my escape. If they caught me I feared for them…

With no idea where I was going I set myself forwards, stumbling every now and then over jutted cobblestones, at one point a sellers wares and occasionally people who's path I drifted into in a somewhat delusional state. But none could care about this child, and I cared little about them. I am not sure what I would have done if someone had stopped my running and asked if I was all right. Perhaps such is best left untold.

Exhaustion wanted to take a grip of my body and was already plaguing my limbs, but the overall pace of escape was so natural that I allowed myself to just run, or stumble and occasionally crawl so that I could once again haul myself back upon those feet that wanted nothing more but to carry on running.

The scene of back there was something that ran simultaneously throughout my mind as I ran onwards, of what had happened, of what I had done and of what I had supposedly controlled. Reality was cold but then it always has been. It was like someone had thrown a pale of cold water upon my skin, and now all that faced me was the aftermath.

"_Fear, nothing to fear, Azimuth._" In incoherent words I muttered to myself in the most pathetic snivel of a vexation coming from emotion that I was not sure how to handle. All that back there, it was something new, an experience that I had never witnessed before. All that, the way They had claimed siege upon the room.

With another jab of reality I stopped running and instead walked on in some limping fashion, dazed and unable to care of my surroundings. My emotion was quick to be locked away, emotion made me weak. In such circumstances I was to remain strong or regret it. To this gesture of banishing emotion I had no feelings, the feeling had disappeared with my anxiety and yet I suddenly became aware of feeling something… Something sharp, and I felt the glass on my face, those tears… Not my tears surely, for Azimuth never cried, not this child, _never…_

But they were mine, and they did hurt, and as I cried I put my hands to my face to wipe them away. Those that were normal cried tears of bitterness, whilst the other one, the one that she, the servant had discovered, the third eye, cried tears of blood, and it was that one that caused the pain.

Ah yes, the demonic mark, the one element that set me apart from them, that and my understanding of other dimensions. I contemplated this as in some unoccupied alleyway. I sat with knees drawn up close to my chest, my mind within some disjointed daydream of nothingness.

I thought once more of Them and of what had happened back there, the discovery, her fear, my annoyance, Their anger and those that wished to get into the room. The consequences of such actions left me with uncertainty.

My tears ended and smudged blood from such emotion lay cold against my burning skin. But no one saw it. I had picked a spot where no one came for there was no light here; the buildings that fortified such an alleyway blocked it out, but I did not care for it. The sunlight had been no comfort to me, and light itself was not meant for creatures such as I.

Creeping in came a breeze, catching my garments and gracing the hairs upon my skin. More forlorn looking now was I then I had ever been…

It was a shock when I found something cold resting in my hands. Shocking was the icy bite compared to the sudden contrast of the fever which had took a hold upon my own membrane of flesh.

My eyes had been closed, I had released the hold upon the flame that burned inside and it was now dimming, no longer shining within my eyes. Extinguish the glow… and I did. I could feel my body sway with the wavier of the breeze as it picked up through this damned place. Underneath me the stone of the alleyway was cold but nothing colder compared to what seemed to have been rested in my hands.

With my eyes still closed I suddenly realised that my hands had been lifted from where I had rested them, lifted and opened gently, and not by myself either. And now something heavy lay within them, heavy and with an icy bite. So bitter was it that it seemed to emit a glow of such.

'_Look Azimuth, look…_'   
But I did not wish to open my eyes. To open them was to sentence myself to seeing the world around me, and in doing that I was acknowledging the moments which had just been displayed before.

"Azimuth…"   
The child opened her eyes when she heard her name spoken through the vocals of a mortal tone. Feminine it sounded but she paid little heed. No, little attention was paid on the surrounds for I was too caught up in my own fascination…

Within my hands lay the element of what radiated the coldness upon my skin, a dagger…

They brought me a dagger as a gift, and not just any dagger. As I turned it within my hands and studied its simple yet beautiful decoration a chill descended upon my spine. It had been his dagger, the Mortal man who had called me 'Monstrous Child', and I found myself smiling.

On the very tip of the blade was the essence of blood, beautiful upon the silver it did look and already I understood what had happened. Yet even more so I found myself questioning what had been…

Why had They not done that when he had lashed out at mother and me? Why had I only heard Their screams of anguish and yet They had never come to wreak havoc, not like They had back there?

I considered all aspects, every angle of the situation that I un-wove in my own sorrow crafted from deep contemplation, whilst throughout I continued to stare at Their gift for me, this dagger.

Finally I settled upon a solution that might settle my mind and my question towards Them. In consequence I thought that perhaps it was I who had empowered Them. Perhaps that had been my doing, and in reality my anger had been channelled through Them. For it was only now that I was becoming aware of the emotion such as anger, and it was only now that it was showing.

When father's own anger was ripe I would retreat into my mind and the worlds that lingered there, thus I ignored everything going on around me, for my soul was locked deep inside my body. I understood that there was one thing he could never harm, and that was my being, my essence and my soul. 

So They had come because I had willed them to? And what had been that willing, what had been the offer? No doubts They did what they did out of protection for me, but I was certain that there was more. Once more I looked at the blood upon the blade of the dagger.

"Azimuth…" Again that voice caught up in my thoughts, ensnared deep within them and I had paid little heed to where that voice came from. Tightly I gripped my gift and then I looked up.

At the entrance of the alleyway stood a figure, a figure that suggested whoever they were, they were no taller then myself, either a small woman or a child. A girl… but the question that rose was, were they a threat to me?

Maybe not… or yet maybe not what I could see. As another silhouette appeared next to them I was soon to find my voice. "Keep away, you know not what you do if you are to come a step closer." A warning sent forth, but the smaller figure took no heed.

Curiously as they stepped forwards I felt the atmosphere tense, as if They got ready to respond. All for good reason as well, for as I took them in I came to realize that one, the taller figure, was carrying a weapon, a malicious looking one at that.

I am not sure whether I looked timidly at this weapon or whether the girl felt the atmosphere tense, but she did feel something of that I am certain. Perhaps it was the currents within the fabric of this world and she felt balance be disrupted for a moment. Whatever it was she responded and wanted to make sure that the atmosphere lulled itself into a relaxed one as quickly as possible. 

She frowned and she spoke with a voice that was as mystic as it was firm. "Malek, sheath that weapon of yours, she is of no threat to us." 


	5. Revelation

**Chapter Four  
**_Revelation_

_Do not question the pain… For it answers not… _

If I could dispel anything in what I feel, then it would be to banish pain. Others think I do not express emotion because I am cold, _so very cold…_ Coldness developed from an upbringing of harsh words and harsher punishments normally resulting in that very element of pain. And yet there is something they do not fully understand. I cannot show emotion because when I do so it hurts me even more.

I felt sick, sick and drained both mentally and physically whilst my skin remained hot.

"It is you who is chosen." Her voice was swift to pick up in the atmosphere once more. No question, just a statement to which her companion did not speak, he did however, respond to her wishes and sheathed his weapon.

From where I sat I watched them approach. The bitterness in my eyes was enough to put most Mortals off, but still they came. The girl, roughly the same age as me, garbed in simple robes that gave her very much the look of a lingering essence, like she had been here for what seemed forever. With added curiosity I watched her, a simple and delicate shroud veiled the one side of her face.

"Where is Mortanius, I wish to speak with him?" Her question asked as if I was expected to know, but I did not, for he had left me within that hellish room and gone off to do duties of his own. Nevertheless, if it was one person I desired to see now then it was he, the element of Death. Something was happening to me and I did not understand it.

Before long I felt a hand upon my face, examining the blood that rested there with distant fascination that shone brightly in her eye. I could only see one of her eyes as the other remained veiled, and I understood that it was not polite to stare at such a garment and its purposes let alone question it. These manners had not been instilled in me, oh no they came naturally to a person such as I who felt the glare of many others.

The touch of her hand upon my face was cold, a shocking contrast compared to the heat which consumed my skin at that moment. Her touch yes, it had been cold but I noticed that it had not been as icy as the dagger.

"You know my name?" I asked the girl, feeling a little at ease, as she was just a girl like me, and besides, I was wearier more of her armoured companion who stood mute in silence near by.

"Yes. We know of you." And I wondered how. Perhaps they were from the town where I had dwelled; maybe they had come in search of me to take me back. I paused in thought for such ideas were ludicrous. My father would not hire a 'child' to come after me, although whoever the armoured figure was looked very much like the ideal candidate. But once again I was soon to dispel of the idea. I was out of his way now, gone and is that not that what father had wanted? Unless he enjoyed tormenting me. I gritted my teeth at such a thought.

From such deliberation my hand clenched tightly on to the dagger and before long it had bit into my skin. Blood that flowed suddenly dropped upon the blackened cobblestones.

_In time…_

Once more the touch of her cold hand upon my face as she smudged some of the blood away. She seemed to be searching out something, something that would perhaps give me reason.

With curiosity she made way to brush away my dejected fringe, much like the female servant had, and again the gesture was poorly received. For people to gaze at such a feature that I beheld put me on edge. Those who had seen it before were quick to bestow me with titles such as 'Monstrous Child'.

I flinched and withdrew, shuffling on my knees away, my head spinning, and my eyes wide with the oncoming knowledge of a slanderous response. 'Freak', yes I knew… I knew and I did not need others to keep on telling me.

And with no warning other then that of my own emotion, the atmosphere was quick to darken with the suppressed shapes of those that would come again if I so needed assistance. That familiar feeling that had taken part back in that room was present once more, how stiff the atmosphere was. My own fear was already under control with understanding that They were there, and I noticed that her companion was swift to draw upon his weapon, unsheathing it and glancing around. Smugly I realised how willing he was to put his 'life' on edge to protect this child.

But the girl did nothing more but stand and look around in her out of the ordinary wonderment. Could she sense Them as well? Or more so, could she see Them? She seemed to be seeing something as her gaze swept the alleyway; in a dazed way, I was intrigued to see what would happen.

"Displeased are your guardians." she announced, still looking around just like she could see them standing in front of her. "They need control Azimuth. They should know when to hold onto Their tempers." The girl frowned; her lip poised in thought and then atmosphere suddenly began to dull into the listlessness it had been before. This startled me in a way, so suddenly Their presence had backed down, what had she done to make them do such a thing?

"_How strange, such creatures that watch over Dimension._" she went on to mutter, and for a moment I could have sworn that there was a look of vagueness in her eyes, like she had discovered something she could not quite understand.

Her gaze was back on her companion. Once more she gestured for him to sheath his weapon. She called his name, but he seemed reluctant. "They are but screeching shadows Malek. They are of no threat, they remain trapped."   
'Ah, but I can set them free…' I thought, although I was not sure where that idea had come from. More importantly I was dejected by the words she had chosen to refer to my companions... '_Screeching shadows_'. I was aware that They too were displeased with her choice of vocabulary, but withheld Themselves for reasons unknown. 

The look was soon to disappear from her face as she knelt next to me once more. "You have suffered Azimuth." I could tell she was being sympathetic, but such acts have never been received greatly by me. If one is showing sympathy towards you then you are obviously being weak, something I learnt from that childhood of mine. 

In return I gazed at her, my hand ready should she even attempt to look upon what she probably knew was there. I was resentful, resentful on all accounts of the word. "The suffering has empowered me." I added in a chilled voice. 

Sadly she shook her head. "Your suffering has only made you bitter. You are trapped in hatred which is only now starting to surface."   
In response I scowled deeply, and yet They still remained quite. "How do you know I have suffered?" It was no doubtfully obvious due to the condition of me sitting in that alleyway like I did. Obvious that all those living had long ago left this child, but I was curious to what response she would give, and the one she did caught me completely off guard. 

"Your Pillar shows it Azimuth. It shows the sorrow you have experienced." She smiled, her image was strong in many ways, and I could feel the power radiate from her in overwhelming currents. "But…" Child she was but deep within was a soul very much like my own, older then most. "Now is the time to start healing Azimuth, healing yourself and fortifying your Pillar." 

Her words, so loftily put, but doubt was always there. She spoke of the Pillars of Nosgoth. I knew not much about them, only that they were linked to the Guardians and if what Mortanius said was true then I was apart of it, apart of it all.

But this girl, this girl made me question everything. She was aware of Those that watched over me and she understood the Pillars, or she spoke of them at the very least. I came to think that maybe she was a helper of Mortanius, and the armoured figure was her guardian, or Mortanius', or both perhaps.

One thing remained clear, I found myself agitated at her assumption of things, and her lofty voice that made her seem so different. The way she had stated of my bitterness held me at distance from her, inside I was frowning and even more restless perhaps because in all bluntness of her words, maybe she was right.

I was upon my feet before I even realized, my senses nauseous from the effects of before and I acknowledged that in this condition I preferred sitting then that of standing. For now the alleyway swayed and so did I in some uncommon stance that made my knees and legs feel weak and tired.

She had taken a hold of my hand and was talking to her companion, but the words I did not hear, only the line of where it was she sent him off to find Mortanius. He seemed to protest although I did not catch the vocals of his voice, I only saw her scowl, which seemed to set him right and jadedly he set off with his task in hand.

"_He who overshadows._" Her voice was distant as she stated those words, speaking more to herself then to me. "I can see why though… It was a great loss…"   
Out of respect for her and that of my now queasy mind I decided against asking about what she meant.

When she realised I was quite she turned to confront me. "We will remain here." A frown remained upon her face. "But your condition I worry about. You have a fever and I can tell you from whence it came."

With added haste I shook off any doubt that I had a 'fever', more annoyed that I was being noticed to being seemingly ill, and shaking my head I added 'weakness' in contempt for myself at seeming fragile.

"You are weak because you have drained yourself." She had my attention now, as it was I gazed at her. "I am not sure what exactly happened in the tavern." Her eyes were glancing around the alleyway once more as if she expected something to besiege her at any given moment. "But I know you have nearly drained yourself of any power you may have established without guidance. You will have to learn to control Them."

The way she spoke the word 'Them' was highlighted in a tone within her voice. Something inside of me explained that she did not mean my supposedly powers… but instead 'Them'.

She sat me down once more, in fear that I would suddenly collapse, and we allowed time to pass.

It was tempting to just drift off at that moment, yes I was now seemly weak but I did not have the energy to even try and argue that point, or sit up and frown in defiance that I was not going to be the one to just suddenly drift off.

The flame inside I had extinguished myself, and now the exhaustion from my escape and the fear of the men was begging to catch up with me. Although those elements were starting to take their toll I was not going to be one to admit it. It was tempting, so very tempting… to just… drift off… To do that would ease everything. I shuddered with a chill that fought along with the fever for a hold on my body. And the girl continued to talk.

"You do not know who I am, do you?" she inquired after it was I had remained silent. I noticed that she was not sure whether I was just ignoring her or whether I had simply fallen asleep with tiredness.

"What is your name?" I asked, becoming aware that it would be polite if I did know her name instead of being ignorant not to. My Mother always warned me about ignorance and those that beheld it. Blinded were they, gullible, easily led and weak and vulnerable to the words and those that lied to them. A gentle and fragile creature was my mother, not strong physically yet strong in her soul. Her words where shy ones, shy from all the abuse she had taken from him but they were wise, wise indeed.

With my question in hand the girl was soon to reply. "Ariel." she stated as if it was that the announcement of her name would clarify everything that was perplexing me. But only silence was to respond.

"You have not heard my name spoken before?" I shook my head to say no, and then regretted it as the vertigo resurfaced. But no, I had not and inside I hoped that I was not becoming ignorant like those people mother had spoken of.

Before she could continue I saw her look over to the entrance of the alleyway and then suddenly stand. My heart leaped and pulsated loudly, and I moved, gripping at the wall so that I could stand myself, my vision still swaying although it was beginning to settle.

I wondered who was there, who was there that had made her suddenly get up? And my heart responded like it did in sudden dread that it might be those from the tavern. As I looked over it settled and for the first time in my life I was relieved to see someone.

"What about the unpleasant incident a the tavern?"   
"The owner is not aware of who she was. I have clarified the matter, and as far as he is concerned the 'Demonic Child' has been dealt with." Mortanius shook his head with a gruff sigh, Malek stood next to him.

"He knows not of Azimuth or who she is, or what she is. Be at ease Ariel, this matter will not affect us in the slightest. The child however, will have to curb her ways." His voice dwindled off into nothingness when he noticed that I was standing and gazing at him.

"Azimuth has drained herself." Ariel explained before the icon of Death could even ask. Ah so that was the reason for why I was feeling the way I did. The overall captivation of the fever set in when I was using powers that were not even there due to the fact that they had already been spent. Truly I had drained myself in the most collaborated of ways. Yet I had not felt myself being drained. No doubts nervous energy and adrenalin had pushed my mind to an extent, and any warning of such 'apparent' drainage of powers had been lost or pushed back into the depths of my mind.

But I did feel pitiful and wrecked, yet, fear not little Azimuth for I now understand that the older and wiser you get so your powers do grow and no longer am I burnt out so quickly in such basic gestures such as the one I had captivated there. Still, this child did not understand, overall confused, perplexed and overall stubborn. Her ways would change in time, in time when she would start to witness things for herself. 

When Mortanius approached he took a hold and steadied my stance, gripping my shoulders firmly.   
"You speak of the tavern." I said through half closed eyes. "The servant… the woman?"   
"Worry yourself not with such details Azimuth." he replied dryly.   
"But she?"   
"Has been dealt with." Mortanius the Guardian to the Pillar of Death replied, and I understood what had happened. Did such an acknowledgement have an effect on me? I am not sure. Did I feel sorrow for my part in her last moments? Perhaps the child in me did. 

With words suddenly cold and bitter I heard the girl, Ariel, speak. "How is it you know, Mortanius? She might not be whom Moebius spoke of. Just another listless child, one of many."

My eyes snapped open as it was Aerial was to question. Just as peacefulness had been triumphant, and I had been so sure silence was forever to remain, the 'girl' came forth with a question that was questioning who I was, a child who Mortanius deemed to be one of the Guardians of Nosgoth.

When I was with them, Mortanius in particular, I knew I was safe. Now she was questioning this, doubting Mortanius' reasons and decision. Why so? I felt myself shift with uncomfortable scrutiny, eyes fixed upon me from both Ariel and the one they called Malek who as of yet had not spoken.

I could see in her eye that she was baiting the situation. She understood and knew who I was, she knew damn well that Mortanius was right and yet she required proof, and what a time to choose, just when I was feeling drained.

With swiftness he pushed me forwards, careful to mind of my drained condition and faintness. His one hand gripped tightly onto my right arm whilst with the other he lifted the parts of my hair that hid my forehead from intruding looks.

The Third Eye was revealed, my vision cleared and I acknowledge the presence around us, the way They lingered closely to Ariel with plotting minds. But I knew not of what They were thinking at the time.

Suddenly a smile played on her lips. The conceit of that child I had seen was soon to disappear and she became the young mystic once more, the one who had first approached me. It was not that she had not believed Mortanius in his words that stated I was the Guardian of Dimension; it was more that she wanted proof for herself before I was to be accepted. She wanted proof that was linked to the very pillars themselves, and she got it and expected it through the symbolic notion of the Third Eye.

"So it is." The smile was quick to play on her gentle face as she rested a hand on my arm. Truly I was accepted and accepted by the most important figure of the Circle, although at that point I did not know it. At that point I did not realise that she had authority over Mortanius, to question him, to hold him in doubt. After all she was but a child… But then so was I… 

"Azimuth, Guardian to the Pillar of Dimension."

As the Third Eye was covered once more the Shadows disappeared, as did the darkness. I looked upon those who had found me, my eyes finally resting upon Ariel and then the fever took hold and my body pleaded deeply to rest.

So it was I was lifted, my body fragile, weak and yet not forgotten, no, not anymore. For once I had meaning and Mortanius had been right.

As I felt him take a hold and lift me up, my arms slipped around his neck naturally so I that I would not slip. And it was with this as I felt my mind begin to give way and the feeling of my carrier's pace below me, that abruptly I noticed a swift change in atmosphere, just as we were to leave the alleyway.

I opened my eyes but did not dare turn to look at the person who blocked the alleyway, for inside I already knew who they were. One of the men from the tavern, the second one who had no doubtfully got away. My face was turned away from him and I smiled at the knowledge that his companion's dagger rested inside one of my garment pockets.

"You have dealt with it?" I could hear the malice in his voice, his eyes averted to my back cutting through with a knifelike glare, and I swallowed hard. "Dealt with my good man." Mortanius replied in reassurance.

With eyes closed I felt myself passed on to that of another. I dared not look at the one from the tavern… the fear was too apparent. And as I was passed on I felt myself placed in the gauntleted hands of the other figure, Malek.

They would not turn me over surely. My eyes half opened and I watched Mortanius approach the man.

He rested a hand on the shoulder of the man and began to guide him off elsewhere. "I can assure you, it has been dealt with." he said.

I did not question what he did, for Death's business is but his own.


	6. Of Balance and Blood

**Chapter Five  
**_Of Balance and Blood_

Through an unfaltering gaze I watched him in the most unbelieving manner.   
He chuckled. "What I state is true."   
"But she is just… a child." I mused over the words in my head it did not seem feasible, and slowly the words left my lips. "The one who controls our powers is a child?"  
"As are you."   
True, yet Mortanius watched me frown, he was not afraid to show that he found the situation humorous, although his humour always remained one of a dry standard like that of his laughs. 

"Rest now Azimuth." He went towards the source of light, the candles arranged upon the mantelpiece that ornamented the fireplace, the main focal point of the room. Swiftly he guided his hands quickly through each flame to extinguish them one by one, their glows fading into nothing as he bayed them peace.

"What would happen if Ariel was harmed?"   
"Destroyed?" His moment of extinguishing the flames was disrupted; he stood silently and still and yet never turned to look at me.

"Then, another one would be born to replace her." Mortanius' voice a majority of the time was forever fixed upon the same timbre, never faltering and a greater part of times deadly serious. His voice now remained flat and unwavering but I imagined that I could pinpoint a hue of sadness and came to think that his cohorts memories and their loss was always apparent within his mind.

"Let us not think of such, Ariel is a dear person." I could tell that Mortanius was eager to put this topic to rest, but there was something else this child wished to know before sleep was to have its way. 

"What if Balance was disrupted?"   
With such a question he turned, his gaze level with my own. "Then my child…" He replied with forebode. "That would be a tragedy on our behalf." With one sweeping last gesture the candles went out and dispelled the room into darkness. 

Tragedy, a tragedy on our behalf. For one such as she to have a role like that made me contemplate even more so. Our powers, we had to have balance, all of us. What we used had to equal out, a life for a life or so to speak. And it was the Balance Guardian's job to uphold this. If Balance became broken then Mortanius only spoke of the turmoil that would follow. It appeared that he disliked talking about it anymore then he had to. But what remained was a distant omen consequential from his very words, a tragedy on our behalf.

The days moved on, my fever settled as my energy was replenished and my body rested. We stopped within another tavern, this one of more opulence then that of the last and yet it still remained to be a dusty room with a fairly comfortable bed, a fireplace and unpretentious decorations. We had no servants tend to us, Mortanius made it clear that he did not want another incident such as the last to emerge, fair enough. As long as no one pressed on about what made me different then all would remain peaceful. 

Ariel was quick to '_take me under her wing_' seeing that I ate what I could even when at times food was the last thing I wanted. In all accounts she attempted to befriend me. As I had never had a friend before I only found the situation strange, and yet I allowed her to continue with these intimations, tolerating her ways if only to humour her. And I did humour her, humour her and watch her through knowing eyes. In a way I was fascinated by her manner and the life she radiated from many gestures and many ways. And They watched too.

I could not help but see how fragile Ariel seemed. Fragile in the sense that she was almost carrying the whole of Nosgoth upon her back. For such a position as she was placed, I knew I did not desire. To envy her would be to desire an infinite, endless potential of worries, such were not worth my concern. 

More so I pitied Ariel for the whelp of time that she became, a most wanted and idealistic target to all those opposed to the Circle, whilst on her shoulders the scales of Balance were always erected. Yet she passed her duty off without objection, in all accounts she loved her Guardianship. Her whole motion radiated the power she beheld, the Balance of life that she loved and kept in a constant flow of equilibrium.

Her duty was always put first. Her life was ridiculously fabricated around her obligation to the Pillars, which Ariel stated constantly, and was always swift to remind me of where it was I myself stood. And sometimes I found myself opposed to such reminders; Ariel loved the Pillars, where as I… I did not.

I have always loved my powers, but I have never loved the obelisks that bind me firm to what is expectantly my 'duty'. 

Within those days that we stayed in that town I learnt with willingness what I could. With more interest I acquired a thirst that eagerly propelled me to have knowledge of an assortment of things, snatching up any information my associates would tell me. 

Information ranged from the Circles place within Nosgoth, to my own position and sometimes a tale of my predecessors would slip out. If it did I would ask those I was speaking with to tell me more. But they never did. Ariel always claimed that she knew not much of the tale and that I should ask Mortanius. Yet at the same time she stated that I should uphold my respect for him and not to ask of such a thing. So I listened to her and upheld that respect, for a while. As for Malek, he remained silenced by his own obligations. I became aware that he was Guardian to the Guardians, normally with Ariel if she left to go out and then with both of us if Balance and me conversed. 

On one morning the room remained empty, empty of all seen things anyway, and only I remained. Times alone in quietness I enjoyed, next to the open window and the flow of the winds catching all things fabricated. Those things fabricated of this world, and the fabrication of others. It had been a daring moment, one where I had parted my hair so that I could look upon truly what others did not see.

I saw the elucidating flow of what others could not, leaning against the wall studying what was there, what had always been there. The feeling I got was almost like being in a calm stupor, a daze. It was breathtaking, and everything was tranquil. But I was only seeing and inside my mind I was told that if I truly wanted to experience what was mine then I would have to go one step further.

The whispers spoke of pain being the key to opening, pain and what came from such. Such things spoken confused me but I was eager to know more, to understand what They spoke of, Those who had been so good to me, protecting me whenever possible. Now They spoke of another thing

As a child They knew how to charm me, and They spoke of me being able to perceive them properly. For such to happen blood was the element that would empower this, or so They said. It was a nerving thing to do, but now that I was alone it was the perfect time to experiment.

In my hand was the dagger, the one They had given to me as a gift - and with a reason it seemed. I beheld it all; just a breath away from other places and all I had to do was reach for Them.

Little by little I drew the blade over the palm of my hand. At first there was no blood, and then as I turned my hand to exam it, so it was that it flowed. With curiosity and wonder of the crimson substance I brought my wounded hand up to my face to examine it further. There was a tingling sensation of hurt that I was able to ignore, clenching my hand together so the pressure on the wound was extended causing the blood to drip from my hand and onto the floor.

It drew my essence together, pulling tightly on my senses. Soon my hand was quick to drop to my side in a useless fashion. My two eyes closed whilst the third eye remained fully open.

It was the first time I had willingly embraced what was mine, and the experience of such I will never forget. I was the bystander and the watcher of other planes. Yet in this concoction of blood and power there was still something that remained to be missing, and that one missing element made this moment weak.

I was told to take one step at a time, my power and its development was not to be rushed and I should take each exercise moment by moment. For now I was to be satisfied with just 'seeing', and I was. 

Through this transaction that I had achieved I heard many voices becoming sudden and louder then I had ever heard them before. Their language fashioned in a tone I did not recognize although I could understand, and with only the third eye open I was witness to the thin membranes of other… 

My connection and concentration was broken when I noticed that Ariel was standing in the room, ghostly in appearance, the door closed behind her. I had not heard her enter the room, for if I had of done I would have stopped my progression long before.

Ariel watched me as my eyes opened once more and the third one was covered. My hand was a witness, bloody to what had been, and only now did I register the pain I had inflicted upon myself.

"Azimuth?" Her voice was shaken, a trace of fear resisted within her vocals. "Azimuth, they had surrounded you."   
I looked at her in a quizzical manner, not quite understanding what she had said. And then I realized… Ariel had seen Them.

She had seen Them in the alleyway and she had seen Them now. Nevertheless, I was quick to remember that back then, when we had met she had seen Them, she had not feared them, why so? Her words from that moment coursed through my mind _'They are but shadows Malek, screeching ones at that, they are of no threat… they remain trapped'_. Trapped? So why was she frightened of seeing them now, were they not they trapped anymore? _…What had I done… _

"Do not do that Azimuth, you _must_ not." 

I scowled and shook my head whilst wrapping my hand in a cloth that was near the washbowl. "Not what?" Agitation, agitation because I did not fully understand what she was asking me not to do. 

"I thought I was meant to use my powers?"   
"Yes, you are." The concern was still there. "But within our powers there are also elements there we should not call upon." With such spoken words I heard Them wail in disdain although they made sure such protest never reached her ears.

"We all have sides to us, both for the good and for the evil. But our powers _must _always be used for the good."   
"I am not…" I faulted within my sentence, the moment was passing, but confusion was still present. "I am sorry." The child within replied. "If I have done something… _wrong…_"   
Ariel lowered her gaze. "Be careful Azimuth, those unseeing often fall the greatest height." 

In distant understanding, yet with an understanding that did not want to take heed, I nodded, just so that it would settle her mind. In honesty I was more interested in the fact that she had been able to see Them. It made me wonder how, but then was she not she Balance? The benefactor and regulator of ours, someone who made sure everything evened out. Nevertheless, I had to ask. "You saw Them?"

There was a pause, one so that she could take in the question that I had asked her. The pause extended so that she could answer correctly. "Yes, and you did not?"  
"At the moment, I can only hear Them." I explained.   
"They talk to you?" she asked with a curious notion. I am sure if she was aware that They did, but it was as if she wanted me to confirm her suspicions of such.   
"Yes." 

"The Pillars, they talk to you?" I gave her the sceptical look of a non-believer for the whole idea seemed amusing. A parody worthy of such a lament of laughter, how could pillars of stone converse with a girl, this girl?

"No words leave them in the gesture of speech, but they do communicate."   
And yet even that statement did not rid me of my cynical glance. "How so?"   
Ariel's eyes were quick to dart with a receptive response. I could see the flickering of emotion take a hold of her. She enjoyed speaking of her job and anything that surrounded it. It seemed she was born to do nothing but serve those endless columns of stone.

"It is hard to explain. You will experience it for yourself when we return to them."   
Was that where we were heading then, to the Pillars? As of yet no one had spoke of our intention of this journey. But of course, I understood that sooner or later I would have to see them. If one of them was mine then I desired to see it for myself. 

"You will only hear your Pillar when you are close. However, their voices are something that I hear all of the time." Ariel added in a slightly ostentatious tone that seemed not of her original nature, and yet had I not heard this tone before? Back in the alleyway when she had questioned Mortanius, and now I understood that she had had every rights to. 

"Does it not it irritate you, all those voices? Do you tell them to be quiet at night so that you can sleep?" My own statement, made to wield back at her superior tone, and yet I now know that she had not wished it to sound that way, to sound as if she was more 'superior' then any of us, not that way at all. But my own comment was complete and full to the brim with sarcasm.

My words however, went unheeding to her. Ariel ignored the sarcasm perhaps because she had noticed herself that her voice had sounded conceited.

"Not voices," she corrected me. "More like… a 'frequency' of sound. They emit a kind of 'hum'."   
"A hum?" I proved still to be the sceptic.   
"Yes. Each Pillar has a different 'pulsation'. In equilibrium the pulsations of each sound compliments the other. In disequilibria then none of the sound frequencies match, only a terrible sound remains." 

At this explanation I found myself contemplating what Ariel had said, not only thinking upon her clarification of the way she understood equilibrium and balance, and her understanding of the Pillars, but also thinking upon how we had gotten onto this subject in the first place.

Through the open window I leaned out, looking at the streets below and the people that walked them. A child pulled eagerly on his fathers arm only to accidentally walk into the path of another moments later. I flinched expecting the child to be chastised for such, but only apologies were exchanged and all continued their ways. I noticed that with such Ariel had been watching me, studying my reaction.

"Not everyone is like your father." she said through a sorry gaze. But such I wished not to speak of and so was swift to set our conversation on track once more. 

Talk of the Pillars was droll in some aspects, and other explanations seemed unfitting, yet I was willing to continue this motion of subject if it meant escaping a talk about my own upbringing and the Monster that had tormented me.

"Have you witnessed this, a state of disequilibria?"   
"Disequilibria? If there was disequilibria then chaos would consume Nosgoth. No, I have not been witness to disequilibria, I just know of such; it is my responsibility to know. Currently two Pillars are not in equilibrium; their 'tones' are out. Yours is one of them…" There was a deep sigh. "And the other one is Mind. We are still searching for that Guardian." 

'Searching' such a word suggested that I had been hunted for, looked, sought and finally found. Would I ever regret such, the day that brought Mortanius to my father's door? I could here the sire's voice now, _'this wretch here is nothing.'_ Thank you dear man for warping your child's mind.

A bitter smile crossed my face. "I see, so my Pillar does not 'hum' properly?"   
Ariel missed the tone of jest within that question and instead brought a hand to her chin in a gesticulation of thought. "Perhaps 'hum' is not the right word. You will understand when you feel the source of where your power steams from."   
Inattentively I nodded. I knew that I had to except my Pillar if I wished still to be empowered. Oh and I did, for my powers had proved to be useful, life had been lost but it had been a necessary sacrifice to keep mine intact.

"Hum?" I pondered, still amused by the thoughts of 'humming stone'.   
"Yes." Ariel demonstrated what she meant by the inclination of humming by humming herself, a sweet note that was gentle and feminine to the chord. I surprised her and myself when it was I laughed, my lips moulding into a smile. I could not remember the last time I had laughed like that, more so perhaps it was the first. 

"You laugh." A smile was quick to follow such a comment.   
"Yes I can laugh." There was hesitation before it was I continued. "I am just like them Ariel. I laugh, I bleed, I…" Realisation held out its hand.

Ariel's eyes glazed over with a sadness she was not afraid to show in front of others. "Cry?"   
I shook my head, a radiating sadness that did not even exist in me, for I knew no different. The bloody tears and those of glass I did shed were ones of frustration and hindrance. No, cry was one thing I could never master. In all my powers that I wield and control that one simple element has always been out of my grasp, and yet it exudes pain. 

In seriousness I replied, my voice stern and dry and devoid of any comprehension of emotion. "I am afraid crying is far from me, but… other then that I am… Mortal?"   
"Yes, of course you are." Ariel added in reassuring empathy, but I took little notice of what she said, focusing more on what I had instead. 

'Other then that I am… Mortal?' It had been a question more then a declaration, and conceivably that was disappointment in my tone, but Ariel did not hear it. 

A decline in my nature was becoming apparent. Each time I brought up the question of being Mortal I found myself questioning what I was. And each time I did that I only received a disappointing answer, what was this? Why did I feel so resentful? The pain as I attempted to balance everything out was unbearable. On one side there was the Azimuth who wished to do what was best, the timid child who hid and when found was crushed in spirit by the one who had brought her into the world. 

On the other was a newly sprung Azimuth, a new child that was no more human then the aspect of power she brandished. This 'creature', born of malice from a poisoned seed, was fierce, cold and cruel, and she waited for the moment when I would let her free. Set in the middle was another Azimuth, the girl I was then, the one who was torn between the two images of the others… who to become… On either side they fought for a piece of me, each tugging simultaneously, both eager for me to become them. But this mêlée was insufferable and at any moment I felt that I was liable to break.

I tightened the cloth around my hand, it throbbed to an extent that resulted in me gritting my teeth. I did not want to give it any notice, if I did so then Ariel would want to take a look, and I did not want the attention. Yet she did catch me glancing at my hand every now and then, furthermore, before she could ask there was a knock upon the door.

Both of us turned concurrently as the Paladin entered.

This was the first time I heard his voice, metallic hinted due to his punishment of being bonded to his armour.   
"Lord Mortanius requests that both you and Lady Azimuth join him down stairs."   
Ariel smiled and nodded whilst I was swift to send her a quizzing look.   
"He can speak?" 

With this she chuckled and looked at me, a slight hue coursing through her eyes stating that I should not be so impolite. "Of course he can speak Azimuth." She gestured for me to leave the room with her. "Thank you Malek." Ariel nodded and I followed behind her.

As it was we left through the doorway I glanced up at the tall armoured figure. Malek's hand was poised upon the door handle as he held the door open. And so it was I reached out and touched the gauntleted hand of the one who was sworn to protect us. It was hard to believe that underneath this metal structure there was nothing but emptiness.

No response was made as my hand touched cold metal, although I was aware that he was gazing down upon me. At last, with understanding I became aware that Malek knew of the story I wanted to hear, the downfall of Ariel's predecessors and mine. In knowledge I understood that he had been there, and for one reason or another this was his punishment.

My senses were ignited. I wanted to hear this tale and I was about to ask, but it was Ariel who called my name from the bottom of the stairs. I obeyed her and began to walk away, full in the knowledge that I had found my storyteller.

We found Mortanius in a secluded room off the main part of the tavern, the owner had allowed him to use it for the sake of privacy, and of course he was willing to provide the Guardians he sheltered with whatever we needed. After all it was an honour to have us here, as he kept saying over and over again until his droning voice nearly drove me mad. Mortanius was swift to bay him quiet, stating that he did not want everyone to know that we were here, and I could understand why. Here in a quaint town, perfect targets, and four to be taken out at once. 

"Where are we heading?" I asked, as I sat down at the table.   
"We are heading in the direction of the Pillars." Mortanius' answer verified what it was I had thought, exactly the place I suspected we were going.   
"How far away are the Pillars?"   
"A couple of days travel, and no…." He chuckled in that dry manner of his. "I have no intentions of using any 'power' to get us there quicker."   
He was beginning to know me too well. 

Our conversations were merged with different topics. It was in reality the first 'council' and gathering of ours that I attended, and by no means was it my last. It was merged with Mortanius' vocals, dry and serious, combined with that of the mysterious and gentle tones of Ariel's and then my own as I asked questions, my false timid nature dissolving.

Slowly as time passed and Ariel and me were treated to food served to us by the tavern owner himself, Malek spoke once more. The topic he raised was spread between him and Mortanius; in an account Ariel and me were purely listeners and not involved. He mentioned something that was typical of him, because of the times he had seen. Vampires.

His mention of the topic broke off into a discussion with Mortanius about some sordid gathering of Vampires somewhere in Nosgoth. Meanwhile Ariel ate her food, sitting next to me, whilst I picked at mine. This topic surprisingly caught and held my interest, but it was a conversation only between Mortanius and Malek, and I was to remain silent.

I had yet to see a Vampire for myself. Being the child I was, hidden from the world I could honestly state that at that age I had yet to see such a creature. Those individuals that did come near our town where destroyed on sight and their bodies left to hang limply in a statement of warning. Such an alliance of execution was said to be a 'token action of the erstwhile ways'. I heard that it had been a favoured method among the Sarafan, apparently once great 'Knights' who served Nosgoth to purify its lands of such creatures. They however, did not succeed. Their greatest feat was their furthermost demise, a downfall that brought them to their knees. A couple of turns after such situation, the Sarafan were no more but a dying legend to all those who cared to remember. And Malek was the last. 

At one point I got lost within my own thoughts as their discussion continued, their voices dwindling as I focused upon my own thoughts and moments passed us by. It was not until I saw Mortanius frown that I looked to gaze upon them both. Mortanius for one reason or another was shaking his head. As I withdrew from my mind I allowed my hearing to pick up what it could, a word spoken, 'Uschtenheim', more importantly it was a name. And again my interest was captured. 

Without word Mortanius stood and gestured for us to do so as well, now that we had finished eating. It seemed we were to leave right away, and I was still attempting to piece together what they had said from what pieces I had heard, and yet only that name remained apparent.

It appeared we were to head there, and I noticed that Mortanius seemed reluctant to go that way. Yet for one reason or another that was the way it was to be. With such a mention of Uschtenheim I noticed that all of them became affected in one-way or another. All of them seemed reluctant to go there.

But we were to leave, and it was the beginning of a fresh afternoon that we headed out. Indeed we moved on, unknown to us that we were being watched. 


	7. The Absence of Time

**Chapter Six  
**_The Absence of Time_

It was a lamentation of some distant past. These quaint homes were all witnesses to an act of history that few had seen. And yet the stones of these buildings told stories, each one holding a tale or two, a statement, an understanding. I could feel such radiate from these structures, a great unrest that echoed throughout. 

So our journey to the Pillars had been hindered by something that needed to be dealt with, although Mortanius and Malek never did mention what it was. And questions were never asked, not even by me, for Mortanius and at times Malek were the two members out of the Circle that forever had my respect, and the little I gave the others these two had by far, more.

It had taken us little more then a day and a half to get to Uschtenheim, and now it was late afternoon, a sky hued with an a piquing colour and the warm sun which glowed with the faint rays of a promising sunset. Nevertheless, our arrival at such a place and at such a time seemed displeasing to Mortanius, and he stated that our stop here would indeed be a quick one, lest the sun set upon us.

Our journey to this place had been dispelled evenly, Mortanius always knew of the ideal places to rest before it was we once again continued. With such I asked Ariel of the place we were going to, she looked to me surprised that I had not heard of it. Then with another one of her sad smiles she acknowledged my sheltered life.

The story of Uschtenheim and the Vampire that had dwelled there remained not known to me. The town that I grew up in stood to be an ignorant place, a place where its people took little notice of the outside world unless it affected them.

For a while they had remained silenced to the Vampiric pestilence, until it was our own town suffered. In oncoming months many Mortal bodies bled dry were found upon the streets in a longsuffering morning. And now the reputation of the Vampires rose to us like bloated corpses in water.

Automatically our own town rose to arms, and a group of hunters were dispatched to us. A watch post was set up upon our boarders, our citizens invigorated and roused by the words of one.

And so briefly it was Ariel who spoke of Uschtenheim, the tale told upon the night we rested, both Mortanius and Malek out of hearing. And through words she described the menace that had been the Vampire, Janos Audron.

The tale I listened to with fascination. How it was that this Vampire, the Vampire of Vampires had laid claim upon this town, using the people as if they were his own private herd. 

Uschtenheim, a little place that had once lived in fear that constantly sprung each and every night of these peoples lives. 

Ah, they too had had a Monster in their lives very much like I had. And yet as I regarded the buildings that lay in front of me I became aware that they had been rescued, their Monster had been laid to rest, and yet I was still in limbo.

Supposedly, I could have be seen as the Mortal image of Uschtenheim, waylaid in the temperament of a tyrant who prayed off the essence of others. And I too had been rescued. Yet my own history was haunting, the ghost of my past had not been put to rest. With such revelation I began to consider such, if it was not put to rest then would I ever be able to progress? Or would I always live in his shadow much like Uschtenheim had lain in the shadow of the one who hunted its people?

From the depths a ghostly breeze stirred. It called upon the currents of passing, a rising tide, a breeze of another time, winding throughout and reaching for all elements. Such an account gave the whole place a lingering presence, an eerie topography of such. It gave me an uneasy feeling; in all accounts perhaps the history of such a fiend had not been laid to rest after all.

The Sarafan, after many years, finally hunted down Janos Audron. They apparently tore his heart from his body, and whilst one stood over him, his heart still beating within Sarafan hands, Janos' life slipped from him.

We progressed forwards, and as we did so I could not help but think that this small town was separated from the rest of Nosgoth. Like in all the other places time flowed and yet here time merely edged curiously around it. Perhaps time feared this place, or more so perhaps it feared what it had been witness to, and so avoided it without another thought.

We entered, all these thoughts inside of me, more so the whimsy thoughts of time having eluded this place, and I half expected to see eternal young beings grace the streets with an everlasting presence. And yet a glance at an elderly couple perched on the threshold of their home told me otherwise. They watched us pass them by and I particularly noted that Mortanius was once again cloaked heavily; his robe that suggested his guardianship was hidden under the many folds of a cloak, whilst a hood was pulled up over his highly unique and very noticeable face. Of course there was no disguising Malek, how could one hide a walking suit of armour? Poor Malek. Tormented in ways that no one else could imagine.

As for myself, well no one questioned me, I would just follow remaining silent. And if anyone other then the three I travelled with dared to come close, then they would back away, very quickly and with the sense that something predatory had nearly crushed their essence. Ariel meanwhile stayed close to me, the one side of her face forever masked by that veil, and I had yet to see why she wore it so, and what she hid from the eyes of others.

To everything Mortal her and me were just children, children in the presence of Malek and a figure that radiated calm and forebode at the same time. However unsuited we seemed no one questioned us, probably for their own safety, I acknowledged with a powerful smile.

At the verge of a street I stopped and rewrapped the cloth around my hand tightly, it of course had now stopped bleeding but I applied the pressure in hope of dulling the pain a little.

"Does it still bleed?" I heard Ariel's question and gained a glance off Mortanius at the same time. It was only now that he noticed the bit of cloth I had secured around my hand and I awaited his response.

Mortanius was swift within his movements, taking a hold of the wounded hand and undoing the petty makeshift bandage I had applied to such, turning it over to examine my palm. Under his scrutiny my fingers automatically curled inwards, as if to hide the infliction I had caused upon myself. It was a natural reaction for him to reopen my hand, smoothing back my fingers with the tips of his own.

Coldness seethed through my skin, a coldness that touched the hurt of my wound, curling around the dull throb and encasing it in its frozen core, yes, coldness and a calm. Inside the cloth there was blood upon the textile where the wound had festered and bled its bloody tears, my own skin weeping at my own self-maiming. But the vestiges of blood were now dry, just landmarks left on a landscape of material, remains of a ritual I had done to myself some time before. The wound itself now lay open and yet shed no more blood. It was not that deep of a wound, merely a mark, a tear, an open infliction; the kiss of the cold blade from what was now my dagger.

"When did this happen?"   
"Back at the tavern." I replied as he ran one of his nimble fingers over the wound upon my palm. Again my fingers curled inwards.   
"How so?"   
"I cut myself." I stated calmly.   
"Upon glass." Ariel added in haste, her voice rising next to me. "Azimuth broke a mirror in the room. We cleaned it up and it was I who saw to infliction. It is not infected?" She asked curiously, curious to whether the wound was indeed infected and inquisitive at his overall manner of the situation.

"It is fine." Mortanius reassured her, covering the wound with the cloth again and securing it properly this time.

As Mortanius turned and began to walk off again I gave Ariel a quick glance. Why had she said such a thing, why cover up for me? Wistfully she smiled and then pushed me forwards directing me to follow the others, and so without question, I did.

The streets were clearly marked with cobblestones in the normal fashion that adorned most towns, and around us the homes of the Uschtenheim people rose. In the haunting melody of such a place, and wavier of the day, these homes seemed almost pretty. Yet the streets remained empty. What fear did these people have which made them leave the streets at a certain time and take refuge in their homes? Poor souls, clinging to what was theirs with the hopes that nothing would trespass upon their property.

I glanced around quickly, wondering whether our presence was known, whether we were being expected. My gaze continued to take in what it would, falling upon every detail. I noticed that silence seemed to linger deeply within this place. Some lull of an aftermath forged in a distant time. Whatever it was, the scene of what had happened here was not yet over, of that I was certain. Indeed was this lull the aftermath or only the beginning? As there is silence before a storm so there is in events such as these. And it seemed this place held its breath and awaited such.

I was too taken in by this place and too caught up in attempting to figure the silence out that I did not notice anything else that went on around me. The others had walked on ahead. In truth I was caught up with this atmosphere that flowed throughout, the silence was almost poetic in a sense, and being fascinated by such I did not realise that it was binding me, trapping me, and separating me from the others.

And as a hand latched around my arm it was then that I was shaken into my senses. It was a cruel way to be taken from your own thoughts, for some bony hand like an animated corpse to suddenly latch upon you like that.

"When darkness comes they come, they do!" His hissing voice suggested he was far gone in madness, wavering vocals that went up and down the scale of hearing. 

My first reaction of course was to get out of his grip, and I attempted to pull away from him but his fingers, as decrepit as they were, still managed to keep a hold. I frowned and struggled again, but his hand only replied to the reaction by gripping tighter. He was beginning to annoy me, and his grip was hurting.

He was a man who was hard to put an age on, too weathered, with greasy grey hair that lingered in dank strands down the side of his face, and far gone in his mind.

"Let me go." I protested sternly, face creased in that ever growing frown, struggling to escape his grasp.   
"They come, they take life…" He continued to mumble to himself, caught up in his own little world. He did not even seem to notice me, I just seemed to be something for him to grab onto. Nevertheless, I loathed being in his grip.

And now he began to stumble forwards, quite strong for such a wretch, and as we proceed I lashed out, turning and kicking him in the back of his leg, and it was only after such a gesture that he saw me. Now that I had made myself known to him he regarded me.

Too true, he obviously had not noticed that he had a hold of me, muttering away to himself in some incoherent voice that wavered each time. It was as if his hands had just taken on a life of their own, and so willingly latched onto me, and he had not even noticed.

Now he regarded me for a moment, and I wondered whether my kick had brought him back down into the real world. Obviously not because his eyes still seemed to cloud over and he continued his sway of inaudible words.

"Each night they desire blood…"   
I am sure they did, but I was not one to offer my blood so freely. What was his intention in such, to suddenly take a hold of me like that? Perhaps my mind was working upon a too overactive imagination, but what it did think and what it whispered was chilling enough for me. And no, I was not going to become something he could leave out to spare his miserable, wretched own life.

It was a quick reaction; my free hand had already gone to the dagger, which now remained to be my solace. And as he turned to face me once more I brought it up in a defenceless manner, drawing it across his face and digging it in deep.

He gave a piercing cry and stumbled backwards bringing his hands up in hope of stopping the blood which now flowed freely down his face. Now that he had let me go I sprang backwards, stumbling to the floor, dagger still gripped within my hands.   
"Wretch!" I hissed, insulted by his overall act of presuming that I was going to be easy to offer to those who hunted others. 

"Azimuth!" There were footfalls behind me but I did not turn to look at them, I only continued to stare at the feeble creature that snivelled in front of me, hunched over himself. 

At first I was nothing but surprised at how I had handled this situation. Not quite the gentile Azimuth, the feeble child who hid from dangers, no, not at all. Instead this was everything, a new side to me indeed. My anger had rose and I had lashed out, in doing so I quelled in calm. But there was still a foreboding feeling inside of me because I hated him. I hated and despised him. Maybe it was the sudden memories of some other times where I had been dragged through my home. More so this man, this dissipated, dilapidated creature had taken advantage of my sudden vulnerability of being away from the group. In doing so he only aroused the anger inside of me, an ancient anger, stemmed from the very beginning. 

I glanced at my arm where he had held me firm "Ariel…" I spoke realizing she was kneeling next to me. "He…"   
"I know."   
"Who was he? A Vampire?" It was a silly question, I already knew this, and I understood that he was not likely to be of Vampiric essence. But, I asked out of sheer curiosity, which was met with a response of such to which Ariel laughed, though not at all in a way of mockery.   
"No," she added. "Definitely not." 

The others I now noticed, Mortanius once again pulling me to my feet and Malek standing guard. I also noticed that the strange man had gone, backing away into the shadows, although his wails could still be heard. And I kept close to the others, certain that Malek would listen to an order if I gave him one, but then I left this situation be for reasons only known to myself.

"We turned around and you were no longer with us." Ariel noticed that I was looking the way he had gone. "Worry not about him, Azimuth. It is unfortunate but some towns have their share of those who are inflicted with madness." With this she glanced around. "And _this_ town of course is of no exception." 

And so easily she was to brush that man aside. Yet she had not heard the words he had spoken, and she had not beheld the fear that I had seen within his eyes. I had managed to strike him away, but his muttered words and his intentions still chilled me. There was a darker side to Nosgoth, and it was not just an affair with Vampires that hinted such. I had stepped out of my sheltered town, and all the wonders I had imaged and longed to see I had yet to regard. Instead all that I had found in this world was an eternity of horrors.

Our stop within the hamlet was very brief; we were merely passing through it. Pity, I would have liked more time to explore, and yet at the same time that madman had made me weary. And so we left Uschtenheim, descending from its sheltered landscape and edging away. The sun was still in the sky, but it brought me no comfort, for we all knew that soon it would bring the curtains of the day to a close.

The day did come to an end, closing heavily upon us as we continued to walk. Such was the path we walked; yet the route that we were following was coming to an end as well. 

On the borderland in remoteness a watch post was situated, very much like the one that had boarded my own town. And yet it seemed impractical for such to be built here, for normally a watchtower was built upon the very edge of towns or at least near by. However, here was this one, separated from the dwelling we had left. I could not help but wonder whether this watch post had been built to watch for an even larger threat then what was your normal nightly Vampire.

I glanced back at the landscape that stemmed back to Uschtenheim, it seemed to be of the highest beauty, picturesque in all accounts. Nevertheless, not even its magnificence could hide its sorrow.

We were greeted humbly in the utmost modest nature to what was known to those whose duty it was to watch the land; of course they had been expecting Malek.

Curiously I followed Ariel's finger as she pointed different things upon the landscape out to me. She was quite well educated in geography, which made me question her upbringing, and in time I would ask her about that.

"That forest there." In the distance I could the beginning of a gathering of tress. Of such it was apparently just the beginning of what branched out to be a vast terrain of woodland. Truly a forest, and one that seemed a highly beautiful one at that. Nevertheless, it is wise to remember that what is of beauty can sometimes be more deadly. For beauty has never claimed to be innocent, and even if it were, even innocence can kill.

"That forest boarders Vorador's land." Now that name was familiar, ah yes, the so-called 'great' Vampire, the one who had massacred our predecessors. Maybe at the thought of their deaths I should have felt sorrow, and yet instead all I acknowledged was through Dimension's death I had been born, and I had been empowered.

"In the depths of such the Ancient Vampire may be found. That is the reason of why our stop here is swift."   
'Among other reasons', I thought, for there was something more then just fear of treading near terrain that bordered Vorador's land. Alas, I feared that not even Ariel knew what that fear was, though she remained as tense as the others were. Regardless, Ariel truly was afraid of Vorador.

"If anything, then Vorador is the main threat to us, to the Circle. In all accounts stay away from that forest, this part of Nosgoth remains cursed, it is but a lament to a cruel past."   
And I knew Ariel was right. Her voice had been lined with distress, and yet it was not just her emotion that stirred me, no, for I could feel the ground beneath me sing that lament, and I could almost sense that curse… _whatever it was. _

"Ariel." Mortanius, who called upon her name and wavered his hand in a motion that she should come to him, beckoned Balance. He had been speaking to one of the guards, and as she walked to him I turned to see Malek nearby glaring at that distant forest as if it posed as some threat, a threat that was slowly closing in around him. I approached him with an enquiring nature, treading lightly on the ground. 

"Tell me, Paladin." My voice remained respectful as I took my position of standing next to him. If I was to get him to tell me what I wanted to know then I understood that I should ask in a respectful tone. It is a simple equation that should work, and yet I understand that that is not always the case. Nonetheless, it is wise to remember to respect those who you wish to respect you, and in return perhaps gain the knowledge that you desire. 'Paladin' seemed very much a respectful title, new to the Circle I did not wish to just jump in and call him by name like the others did.

"What do you know of the 'great' Janos Audron?"   
I admit that the bits I had heard of this Vampire had sparked interest within me. His tale was legendary and yet not many spoke of such. And as to back this up I received silence, and no reply was made for my question. 

"What do you know about Vorador then?" Again, no reply. I tilted my head sideways observing his overall mannerism, whether his silence was due to his annoyance towards me, or whether to speak of such re-stirred old memories that he desired to dispel of and lay them to rest, I did not know.

In this world, we all have things we wish to put to rest so that we may bring peace to our own souls. Even I had to put to rest my own past, quite literally.

Slowly I got a response, not one of words but purely one of reaction. He turned his attention to me, gazing down at the child that stood before him. I am not certain if he was about to give an answer because the moment was broken… again, as my name was called. I turned and walked away, noticing that once again his attention was back upon the beginning of that woodland terrain, a terrain he could not enter.

It was here that Mortanius and Malek left us in the care of some hunters within the watch post. I was weary of them doing such, yet I was reassured that this was the safest place for us to be. When I asked Mortanius why we were not to go with them he simply explained that such sites were not meant for the eyes of those our age. It was hurtfully patronizing to hear such a thing like that come from him. 

Mortanius knew that I was more then just 'some child', that I was far more mature then just a mere babe thrown forth harshly into this world. But it was Ariel who spoke to me as I watched them leave, saying that I should be feeling lucky that I was not going with them and the six hunters that headed out on such a night. If Malek was involved in such then it normally had something to do with those of Vampiric essence. Ariel however, was missing my point and overall desire. Where as she wished to avoid Vampires, I was only curious to see one for myself.

As the night moved on I settled in a chair in the corner. A small fire purred on the hearth, just enough to come this small shelter warm, although I pulled the cloak I had been given tighter around my shoulders.

Outside the sound of many nightly voices of the terrain song their symphony of the night, and a distant howl from a wolf calling to its mate. The whole concert of such nightly sounds, the breath of the breeze, the light of the moon, it was all there for those who were willing to take notice.

Ariel slept in a chair next to me, tired out from the walking we had done for it had not been the easiest of walks. Now here we resided, in the middle of nowhere on a strip of ominous land.

It was not how I had expected to be spending my time as a Guardian, sitting in a little rickety hut with six hunters who watched over the land. And I was still questioning whether they were even strong enough to be protectors to us. Before Ariel had fell asleep she had attempted to reassure me once more that yes, they were. Besides Mortanius would not have left us if he had not thought we were safe. I had finalized this conversation with the statement of 'only time will tell'.

I glanced around, and for a while I watched the fire. A female hunter offered me a warm drink but I reclined although I did appreciate her concern in the way of my comfort. Outside her companions stood watch, whilst lazily two dogs slept close to them.

It was when the female hunter dozed lightly that I slipped outside. Having trained myself to avoid the eyes of my father, passing these hunters did not course much of a problem.

I did not go far, it was merely so I could stretch my legs and stand under the moonlight and think. Within a matter of days I had escaped my home, been named a Guardian and seen some places that I did not think I would ever see. A lot had happened and in such a short time. It made me think of what would happen next.

Although I found it tempting to explore now that I was alone, I decided against it, pushing my mind to stay focused and not to be reckless upon land that was unknown to me. Still, it seems that even when I am not inattentive, things of a sinister nature have an inclination of finding me.

By a tree I decided to rest, just for a short while before heading back. A typical child in that moment, one like most who does not see the danger. Had I known that we were being watched when we had left for Uschtenheim then I would have probably not ventured from the eyes of others, but then again maybe not. For you would have thought that even having met that strange man back at the town that I would have wished to stay close to others. My curious nature however, has a way of taking a hold, and even now my one curiosity was to be filled.

Still sitting upon the floor a hand fell lightly on my shoulder. In suddenness I jumped, my hands already reaching for my dagger as I turned.

"Ariel…" I sighed as she gazed back at me, scowling in a disapproving manner. "It is not wise to be out here Azimuth, not alone… not even with others…" "I thought you were asleep." I replied getting to my feet. "Yes, I was, until it was Dimension left us."

I did not ask her how she had known that I had left. No doubts her knowing was probably linked to her overall position of power, or perhaps maybe she had not been asleep after all, but instead resting her eyes lightly.

"Why did you leave us?"   
For a moment I thought. "Because I wished to see a part of this landscape. I was not going to go far. It is truly beautiful in the moonlight."   
"Yes, it is. But did you not you heed my warnings? Azimuth…"

Her words were lost to me as I took interest in the landscape around us, the beauty of the tree I had sat under, the way its leaves caught the moonlight and filtered the small particles of light. From the tone of Ariel's voice I could tell she knew I was no longer paying much attention. 

I studied the tree's architecture and the way it branched out above us in a tall canopy of greenery. And then with abruptness I realised that Ariel had stopped speaking…

As I moved my gaze from the bows of the tree I looked to a figure that stood not far away in front of us. I am not sure how it was I knew, but something automatically whispered in my mind 'Vampire'. 


	8. Monoliths

**Chapter Seven  
**_Monoliths _

_I had stepped out of my sheltered town and all the wonders I had imaged and longed to see I had yet to regard. Instead all that I had found in this world was an eternity of horrors._ It was a sentence I had thought moments before, and now as I stood in the moonlight I thought it again. How cruel this world could be to all those dwelling in it. But I was quick to retract that statement, for I was developing into my own, a person with no sympathy for others.

"A young Mortal walked to Uschtenheim in the presence of the Paladin." I watched as the figure that had walked from the shadows spoke. His voice beheld no hint of emotion. 

A male, as tall as he was slender, a predator in all sense of the words, for I saw the essence that smouldered within his eyes, it seemed to glow and radiate his true sense of being. And his whole movements seemed to be woven to the silky threads of the shadows, whilst his appearance remained crafted of the moonlight. A child of darkness in all accounts, and yet he deeply paid the price for his unnatural looks and his dark gift.

It was beauty, but not beauty of such like that in a flower, or a painted picture, or a pretty Mortal female. Instead this was beauty of a fierce nature, the beauty of a hunter, and of course the beauty of the night. This was indeed a Vampire, the first one I was to ever see.

It was as he approached that he gazed at me in an unseeing fashion, as if to attempt to figure me out. To him I was, to many I am, like a puzzle that stands to be solved. More perhaps I am a puzzle piece waiting to be placed in my final position so that the bigger one may be solved within itself.

I could already understand what it was he thought, what sort of Mortal parent allowed a child to wonder like this? An act of carelessness on such a night, for when the moon is full not only does the wolf howl, but even more so a Vampire's strength is increased. 

Yet such a scene was not to make me timid, each time I was growing stronger, and I could feel it and They acknowledged it. Times at home left harsh scars upon me, indenting my own life. From such I would learn, and I would not shy away, not anymore, and I would allow my power to extend.

"The Paladin will return soon." I replied calmly with a hint of warning that lingered deep in my voice. I spoke and such surprised him; I could see the sudden abruptness of my tone register with his hearing, and the amount of surprise that flickered through his eyes. Such a child, his mind registered the thought implied more by 'why does she not tremble like the others do?'

"Indeed." He stepped forwards. The curiosity he beheld was radiant, and deep inside I wondered whether he had fed recently or whether we were the carriers of the blood he was eyeing up and desired deeply. Not only this but I found myself comparing him to the threads of tales I had heard. He did not look the Monster that had been described, but maybe in such tales they had been highlighting more so the Monster that lurked skin deep. My father was the perfect example of such, normal looking man but cross him and he had an unnatural temper.

He was still walking towards us; and Ariel's breathing increased and I could almost feel her fear exude upon me.   
"Stay far from us Vampire…" I warned, acknowledging the creature for what he truly was, hunter of lives, and drinker of blood… parasite to our world… With such words the wind stirred about us, more so I could feel my concentration fix itself upon the point of where I could protect us if it was so needed. And yet I sensed that Ariel was holding me back in the way that was derived from her, denying me from calling upon Those who had protected me before. 

As the situation stemmed and uprooted itself, and he carried on his approach I became aware that They too had a great dislike for this creature, and the Vampiric race in particular. In the stirring of the winds I heard Their calls, deep vocals mixed with those of a piercing shrill.

Again I continued to talk using my words as such as my weapons, and harsh words they have proven to be at times. "We are not easy pickings for such of your kind. The Paladin _will_ return _soon._" I extended my emphasis on the word 'soon', yet in honesty I was not exactly sure when Malek would return. Nevertheless, if I could scare this creature off with such an eluding thought then I held hope that Malek would come. 

Regardless, such seemed to have no sway upon him, or at least one he was not going to allow others to see. "I fear him not." A relaxed reply was made with a hint of satisfaction.

My own replies came back in almost challenging responses. Inside, maybe this was the influence my father had had upon me. Indeed the malice of the seed, handcrafted demon, sculptured seraph that was, for in my unseen innocence it was then that it became broken.

"You are lying. Every Vampire fears Malek because they know what he can do to them, what he will do to you if he sees you. What makes you so different from the others?" I made sure that my replies came as calm as his. In situations as tense as this one it is best that you remain composed and make sure the one opposed to you knows of such as well.

When he was not far from us he laughed and came close, looking down upon me, posing as an ominous threat. And inside I felt a great remoteness fall upon me. It was almost like something cold had touched my soul, and looming over me was this great, big apparition. Pitch black in essence the whole structure of such was suffocating and I was certain I would drown within it if I did not fight.

"You are not like the others," he perceived, yet the words made no sense, and for a moment it seemed as if I was standing within a large stone hallway, bare, cold and desolate. I was completely alone apart from this dark shadow that threatened to consume me at any given moment. His words stood as some forecast within me, 'not like the others…' And what did he mean of such?

I opened my eyes to dispel this vision of loneliness and seclusion. Perhaps it was Ariel's grip upon my arm, which tightened that made me do so.

"Fear stands far from you."   
"I have nothing to fear." Firmly stated, and yet he could see through this. The Vampire knew that there was something that I did fear, peeling back the layers to what my trepidation was.

"Oh child." The Vampire's eyes softened for a moment in an uncharacteristic manner, words spoken like how it is a parent addresses a fond child, as they highlight that with age they knew better and otherwise. And beneath, locked below I saw many untold tales reflected deep and struggling to escape through the windows of what was left of his soul.

I saw a soul within him, deeply mattered and tangled upon hopes that had long been denied. What fowl creature had poisoned him, unleashing bitter venom that had waylaid his essence so that his body encased and trapped his spirit? Here was a body that should have long been rotting.

"Everyone fears something, you as much as the others." His announcement of such was a contradiction upon his own terms, not only that but his tone had switched to a harsh one once more, harsh and demeaning. But his contradiction was hitherto an echo of my own sense of being.

I was uncertain of that statement and even more uncertain of his mannerism. Inside I felt as if this situation was slipping from me, like I was loosing control. Perhaps that is what he wanted, for whilst I remained determined I was not vulnerable. And yet if he caught be off guard he would be able to peel those challenging layers back, and then I would be defenceless and exposed. Maybe this was how he hunted his prey. 

The anger in me was soon to rise regardless, as I took in his words stating that I feared something, and even more unsettling, it was as if he could see this 'fear'. The newly fledged confidence of myself found this aspect insulting, what made him think that I feared anything? He was beginning to try my patience now, how dare he presume! Even though I understood that yes, he was right. Of course I feared like everyone else did, but fear had to be overcome, and not to be acknowledged, not if one wanted to remain in control. Alas, the feeling progressed within me that conceivably I should teach such a creature a lesson or two. 

"Azimuth." Ariel's grip on my arm tightened once more as she sensed my annoyances heighten. "Azimuth, do not." She remained in control despite her fear, and my grip upon Them was tightened. Like eager steeds upon their reigns They pulled, attempting to break free, and yet somehow she managed to hold sway upon Them despite the situation we faced.

Now his eyes became fixed upon her as if he had not seen Ariel standing next to me before now.

"Worry not Ariel." I added through gritted teeth. "He cannot harm us."   
"Ariel?" I could almost see a snarl escaped his lips. She had shied away when I had spoken her name, and now he had heard it. He knew her not by appearance, but he did know her by name. And in me stating such she was revealed to him, it was his reaction and the flicker of acknowledgment that his eyes gave which told me such. It would seem he knew of her, or at least he had heard her name. Vampire in the presence of Circle members, this situation surely was going to be quick to fall out of control. 

"Balance… _Guardian…_" He glanced at me, his eyes now ignited with a fierce streak. "And you?"   
"Azimuth, Guardian to the Pillar of Dimension."   
"The Circle?" He spat in the gesture of malice. "Patrons to the rape of this world."   
Next to me Ariel stuttered for the words burnt her, her beloved Circle being insulted by a creature such as this. Yet in my eyes that insult remained to be a petty one.

My own response was just as turbulent, gripped tight in my hands was that dagger, although I had never been trained in the arts of fighting so I doubted whether I could defend myself as such. And Those that watched over me Ariel still allowed me not to call forth, so there was only us to depend upon, very well… 

"You wish to kill us Monster? Do you wish to slaughter us both?" The atmosphere was intense as I hissed those words. Why ask him so if he was just to strike us down? Nonetheless, perhaps I could daunt him from such an attack. More so perhaps Ariel could flee, although I doubted whether she would get far. Despite her powers she has always remained fragile, it is what Nupraptor loved about her. She possessed the great flow of all within her hands… and yet she still remained delicate.

The Vampire looked at me and scoffed. "Merely children…" He muttered in an undertone, what held him back now? The whole contemplation of what he should do no doubt, and what would any other Vampire do? What about the 'great' Vorador? I saw the creature's name flicker through the depths of his mind, indeed, what would he do?

A situation arose like the Phoenix from fire, Circle members right in front of him. Children at that, just children, not quite as skilled as the older members, surely they remained to be an easy kill. But we were just children, and such proved to be his downfall.

Moments of silence, neither of us moving, him because he was confronted with this situation and us because we dared not. It was after the requiem of such speechless times that he spoke.

"Monster? What rights do you have to regard me as such? A Monster in your eyes I am, but your eyes remain blinded."   
In such I blinked. Blinded said he who walked in the binds and netting of night.   
He snorted in disgust, of us and of himself. "So young are you that your bodies offer little blood."

The Vampire went to turn, as if to pull himself reluctantly from this scene, what he was doing… was that right? Yes we were children, but we would grow and develop and in adulthood we would oppose a threat to those of his kind.

"Perhaps not all of my kind would not stay their hands, I know for certain that my own Sire would not. But know this, whilst you remain children then you are protected, but only from myself."   
A noble statement, one that was sealed by his own blood as Malek's weapon pierced his chest. 

The climax of the situation unravelled quickly. A meeting between me and the first Vampire I was to see ended in the creature's own destruction. And no questions were asked and no words were spoken, it simply happened as most things do.

I cannot glorify this death scene for there was no glorification of such, simply his eyes closed and silence echoed heavily. No one would morn his death for he had known nothing but loneliness and loneliness had been his companion and lover. Yet what of the Sire he had spoken of? Did Vampiric parents mourn the loss of their children of darkness? I was not sure and I did not ask, for who was there to tell me of such, besides, what did I know? What did I care? For I came from a Sire who offered me no love, and instead exchanged the care that should have been received from him with nothing but torment and pain. If my father, being the monster of such, was like this then were Vampiric fathers worse?

Malek had austerely come, like I had warned he would, and yet neither Ariel nor me had seen him approach and the Vampire certainly had not sensed him. But there he was, and now he stood, retrieving his weapon without another thought, and this Vampire's life had been spent.

As I watched Malek take hold of the body I imagined that I could see the Vampire's soul make a spill for the afterlife, but such thoughts brought me no comfort. And so what did I think of this act of brutality? I was not sure. At first the Vampire had posed nothing but a threat to us, and yet the Vampire had been in retreat when Malek had struck.

What was I thinking? Surely it mattered not whether the Vampire was about to strike us or not, for the fact remained that he had been a Vampire and they have no rights to this world. And yet I am besieged to offer truth to this matter. I admired them simply. I admired Vampires for what they were, the hunters of life that they became, and no questions were asked. And yet at the same time, I found myself despising them, despising them because they remained a threat to me and more so Them.

Ariel remained next to me, statue like and unmoving. I regarded her and noticed how pale she had become, pale and cold and frightened. The reality of that moment was all too apparent on her face; she was fully aware what 'could' have happened. More so she was terrified of the thoughts of what could have been if that Vampire had been Vorador. Thoughts of our predecessors downfall haunted her constantly, of that I knew. In truth Ariel was terrified of Vorador even though she had never been in his presence. But his shadow, his destruction of part of the Circle remained an ominous threat, one that lingered. And Balance understood with clarity that she was the perfect target, Balance… the one who bonded us all. 

It was shortly afterwards that the other hunters appeared and escorted us to the watch post whilst Malek continued his task. He had destroyed the Vampire but he needed to satisfy himself more. That side of him was forever apparent in the issue of Vampires. And it was a bloodthirsty side, almost as bloodthirsty as the creatures themselves. The body he left on display, it was not only a threat and warning to other Vampires but also a symbolic gesture to Malek's own comrades that were, a gesture to show of past times, times he had not forgotten. 

As bloody as such was, Malek held his duty firm. To purify those tainted remained his life's work, what life remained within him. His fanatical attitude eventually consumed him. As times passed it became more then a 'duty' and instead stemmed into nothing more then an obsession. And yet, one Vampire still remained far from him.

It was Mortanius who I noticed first when we approached the watch post, perhaps in his mind he demanded me to. One thing was certain though, I was beginning to loose any confidence I had built up in those last few moments. The reason? The reason remained intact. I had left against Mortanius' wishes, and I had put Ariel in danger in spite of myself. The consequences of such I feared more then I had feared that Vampire and it was only now that I was aware of my act of foolishness.

It seemed that memories of what my father would do in such circumstances, and even in circumstances for none other then but being present, was beginning to resurface. But for such, Mortanius' face remained grave. "Ariel, Azimuth." He gave me a stern gaze and swiftly clamped his hand firmly upon my shoulder, pushing me forwards as his cloak billowed out behind him. 

He cleared the hut that posed as a shelter for those on watch, the very same place where it had been that Ariel and me had sat at the beginning of this night, condemning everyone outside without a word until it was just he and I who remained.

He shut the door quietly and inside I trembled, for I had seen times like this before. How calmly my father would enter a room, gently and quietly as if it was he who was silence itself… And then his face would darken, like a shadow passing over the moon. 

The confidence inside me continued to crumble away, slipping out of my hands like droplets of water. I was in the presence of the Guardian of Death and I had defied him.

My reaction had developed into one of quickness from a young age; one develops such when an environment you grow up in remains ill omened. And backwards I stumbled, my eyes not leaving him as by the doorway he stood. 

When Mortanius approached I only withdrew quicker, backing rapidly into one of the feeble wooden chairs, knocking it to the floor. The sound as it hit the ground sharpened the atmosphere, which already remained heavy and foreboding, not only that but such edged its way up my spine making the nerves in me already take flight.

As a child I had no pride, the waif that was I was spared not such an element, yet it mattered not. For if I had had pride at that moment it would have only broken away like my confidence had. Such a result only allowed fear to remain. Fear because I acknowledged Mortanius' power, I knew what he could do to any who went against him, and what of me? Merely a child just like that Vampire had said.

Father's words and past diatribe was clear in my mind. A worthless child was I, unimportant Azimuth, and even my name seemed to be too grand for a being as I. 

It was natural for me to raise my hands to my face… I had always done that in hope of blocking any oncoming blow, not that it had ever worked. And now this seemed such a silly gesture, for who could block an advance on Death's own anger?

In standing I awaited such. I awaited a result that would show me the answer that I expected, that everyone else were just like my father. And that everyone acted like that around be because I deserved it. I had to have deserved it, for what other reason would a father despise his own child? Did I not deserve it all?

In self-pity I nearly choked upon my now weakened attitude, how selfish of me in my moment of snivelling, how selfish of me to forget the way he had treated mother? Had she deserved that as well? I suspected not, and yet I knew he blamed her for the birth of me. So not only had I made my father despise me but I made my mother suffer as well. That is what he had reduced me to, a flinching wretch with nothing but self-loathing, and now someone who trembled in Mortanius' shadow. In such I awaited the repercussion of my actions.

The swipe I would have expected off my father never came, nor did the raised voice, nor the insults and the disgust and hatred that would be so apparent in fathers voice. There was nothing in the way of that, which only made me even wearier, for if nothing of such happened what else was he planning to do?

Quietly he removed my hands from my face, whilst his own visage remained composed. "Azimuth," said Death. "It is for your safety that I asked you to stay here."   
"I know…" In suddenness I recoiled again, having spoken out I expected at least to be told off; for that was something else I would have never done at home. Nevertheless, all he did was raise a finger to his lips and bay me silence. 

"You left, against my preference, and in doing so you put yourself in danger."   
In nodding I excepted what he said was true, for it was, in another Vampire's presence we might not have been so blessed, especially with Ariel being so reluctant to allowing me to have full sway.

"Not only that but you put Ariel in danger, such cannot be allowed to happen."   
Yes, I knew this, I had already been aware of such.   
"It is important that in the future you follow my wishes, for your own benefit and the safety of the Circle."   
"I understand Mortanius."

In retort he lifted a hand towards my forehead, pushing back the hair and looking upon the third eye. I did not flinch or get annoyed for him doing so for I knew that he would not be someone to react with hatred. Reasons because as I watched what seemed to be emptiness in the expression of his face I saw something deep within. It was as if he understood what I had been through, to know what it is like to be alone, to be an outcast, to be different…

"Stay safe, Azimuth." The strands of hair fell into place once more. He got up from his crouched position and silently left.

An experience such as that left me with some conclusions, ones that would offer certain solace at times when I needed such. Mortanius provided me with the answers, that not all people were like my father, and that I… I was no longer alone.

The task to whatever Malek and Mortanius had been asked to abet was now finalized, and our only way was now forwards. The journey to this watch post had very much hindered our travel, but it was not that much of a waste of time. For from such, answers are answered, questions are questioned, and more of both elements are developed. In such movement I had seen a selection of towns, the prettiness of Uschtenheim, and the shadow that still lingered there in an essence that suggested it would never leave. Not only that but the forever sadness that wound its way throughout the streets.

From there the watch post, and Ariel's distant warning of Vampires including Vorador, then, my own encounter with one of darkness. Assumptions of such suggested that Nosgoth remained a turbulent land, one that remained restless, and one that stretched throughout the dimensions. The great unrest that had settled suggested that a storm was beginning to stir, and yet it did not hint upon the time that it would be released.

Rain poured upon us in an unruly manner. It was a morning of mist, created by the current of warmth and mixed with the aftermath of chill, and the skies had opened allowing the tears of the heavens to fall.

Ariel sneezed and pulled the hood of her cloak up further over her face, I did the same with the cloak that I had been provided with. It helped keep the warmth within us, but did not an awful lot in the onslaught of rain that we were witnesses to. Yet no one complained, not even Malek who I looked upon and wondered whether he would rust in such weather, but no one seemed to worry, or mentioned not anyway.

The landscape had changed around us, shifting slowly to accommodate the habitat of others, and in interest I watched it. The pace of our walk remained steady, whilst next to me Ariel continued to chatter in words that were associated with the place that she called 'home', and which she was eager to point out was now my home as well. At first I was not sure what she was talking about, but then as I listened more I understood that she was talking about the Pillars.

Never before had I seen them, but from her descriptions I found myself only eager to see and to touch such if I was so allowed. My mind was fixed entirely on the point of destination that I never even considered where it was we were going afterwards. Maybe because Ariel fondly referred to it as her 'home' that I expected to see a quaint home of such residing there. Not knowing that Ariel's reference of 'home' was purely a symbolic one at that.

As some time passed I became partly restless, restless of the walking and even more restless of the rain. The way it damped my clothes and made them stick to me creating nothing but discomfort.

"How far now?" I pushed the question forwards as I removed some of the wet strands of hair that had clung to my face.   
For a moment Ariel was silent, as if to listen to something and then she replied cheerfully, "'Tis not far Azimuth, and then you shall see."   
And indeed I would.

It seemed like some miracle, the landscape that was crafted before us, like someone had handcrafted it lovingly. I had never seen such a lush and green terrain, the utmost atmosphere of lushness, which was only enhanced by the rain. And yet I was soon to forget of the cold and wetness of my clothes. Before long this landscape would only captivate me more in an overwhelming manner, and Ariel's expression upon her face only told me of such.

As the trees began to part, before my eyes in columns of white that swiftly reached out to the heavens, was the result of my journey. It was no wonder that I gasped in awe. In suddenness I picked up my pace, changing my walk into nothing short of a run, running forwards and leaving the others behind as they held back, unaware and not paying attention to anything else around be but the structures, the obelisks which graced the land before me.

And as I continued forwards I half expecting these structures to either move away in a tormenting manner or just disappear completely. I felt too overwhelmed to believe that this was indeed real. Such beauty I had never beheld before. It was one of those emotional moments that creates a lump within your throat, where it is you want to cry for no apparent reason known to you.

Of course my own emotion came from the feeling of 'hope' that lit up inside of me. In a life of darkness I had finally found the point of exit and escaped. Those past days since I had left 'home' had seemed almost fleeting, and I had expected to wake up any moment and discover it had been all a dream. But I had not, and here I was… It was all reality, and I was here. 

It is now that the zenith of this journey was to be brought forth, and it is here that I really became Azimuth of Dimension.

The scene seemed striking, wholesome, untainted and innocent, and the falling rain made it even more so. I became to understand what Ariel had spoken about; the sound the Pillars seemed to emit, indeed, a kind of 'hum'. In remembering our conversation back at one of the taverns we had stayed in, I laughed. 

Inside I felt as if I was being called forth, as if someone or something was pulling me forwards, propelling me to towards these structures. I stepped closer.

It was like I was alone, stepping forwards and upon the foundation that these immense structures grouped around. The feeling inside was consuming, the constant echoes of sound and of frequency I felt and heard within my mind.

"_Energy._" I whispered hovering in front of one Pillar. "_Nature…_" I stated in front of another as it was I darted unevenly in my own joy from structure to structure, and then "_Death._" as I stood before what was Mortanius' Pillar. I knew where each one was positioned and what each one stood for, and as each name was whispered an echo of that whisper was released inside my mind. Each one I approached and looked upon seemed to draw upon something within me, and from that emotion I found a calm radiate.

However, inside me something seemed unnatural and uneven. The sound the Pillars emanated was one of beauty and harmony, and yet distantly two remained 'off key', and it was like Ariel had stated. One of these Pillars, one of them that remained out of harmony seemed to beckon me. In revelation nervousness fell heavily upon me, standing here in such a glorifying pure scene I could not help but expect something terrible to happen, and the Pillar was still calling.

I stepped back and stood within the centre to look upon all of them for a moment, attempting to pinpoint the one that beckoned me. And like sunlight piercing through the mists of morning that linger upon the warm currents of the ground, so it was I found my Pillar. 

Without hesitation I approached it, unsure of whether there was anything I needed to do, or whether anything would happen. But it seemed anything and everything I did do just came naturally, like something else was instructing me and leading the way, and I was no longer in fear. 

Although the rain still fell it was a much lighter shower. In the wetness of such, before the Pillar of Dimension I knelt, as if to pay homage to a great monarch I had served since the beginning of my life. With out stretched hands I touched part of the Pillar's surface. From contact the coldness of its surface wound into me, fixating the sound and being it radiated to the essence of my very own life, echoing around every heartbeat and breath of myself, creating another utmost flow of equilibrium. Whilst behind me, within the centre, I felt Ariel embrace such.

It was the acceptance. I had offered myself freely to the Pillar of Dimension and in return it had accepted that offer, binding me to its structure, entwining my soul to its own, and we were one. For once in my life I felt complete, absolute, whole.

"I am Azimuth." I announced, suddenly breaking the calmness of the humid atmosphere that had fallen as calmness often does within watchful situations like this. And my voice, I noticed that the vocals had almost changed, they seemed not like a child's. Instead they were powerful and proud. 

"Of course you are." There was a voice behind me and I turned, getting to my feet suddenly to face whomever it was who had just spoken, for I did not recognize this voice. It certainly was not feminine, and it was neither the vocals of Mortanius or Malek.

Thinking of them I now looked for the ones who had travelled with me, not taking much notice of the one who stood in front of me and who had spoken out, interrupting me in my own completeness.

I was quick to spot them. Ariel still stood centralized, she had discarded her cloak, which now lay upon the floor, and embraced the refreshing rain that still fell, and watched me intently. Mortanius stood near by having also taken off his cloak; his garbs of Guardianship were now seen. Not only that but I became more aware that truly the one who represented Death did look very much like death, whilst near by was Malek who was forever in our service.

Close to them there were four silhouettes that began to move forwards in union, stepping out of the ground fog that lingered. This veil of mist almost seemed to be their own mysterious curtain to hide behind which was then pulled back as I had arrived. Such an entrance gave them nothing but a truly powerful aura that grasped at them in an un-shy manner. This aura increased as they walked forwards, joining both Mortanius and Malek, with Ariel who stood in front of them. The approach of them and the appearance of the situation might have seemed of one of intimidation but something inside me fulfilled me in a gracious manner. There was nothing to fear for I was one of them. More importantly we were whole, and together.

"Azimuth, child of glass, fractured, broken by the one who should have protected you, Guardian to the Pillar of Dimension. Feel welcome amongst us child, allow your damaged soul to heal and embrace what is yours."

I turned my attention to the one who had rudely interrupted my moment of joining with my Pillar and gave him the fierce look I had given Mortanius on the night he had come to my fathers home, one that remained fierce and yet cautious towards him. 

Yet my cautious nature towards Mortanius had began to fade. I would still not attempt to cross him, or anger him, no I would not dream of doing such as a child. For my respect for him was one of greatness, not only that but I was grateful towards him for the release he had brought me, and fondness for his watchfulness over me within our journey and afterwards, let alone protection from those I needed protecting from. Still, as I gazed at the figure that stood in front of me I did not think that I would have the same regard for him as I did the Death Guardian. It was a distant omen and something that lay darkly in the back of my mind. I would tolerate him, but I would never like him. 

Unexpectedly and without permission, this figure with outstretched hands pushed back the now soaked hair that covered my deformity, the third eye. With sudden hatred bore inside me I snarled in warning, and noticed that Mortanius had stepped quickly forwards, stepping out of line with the others as if he expected something to happen.

This figure rested a hand under my chin and tilted my head sideways, whilst spite and unfamiliarity burnt through me.

"Perfect." he announced with satisfaction.

At such one of my hands came up quickly and clamped the wrist of his hand tightly. With a glare I returned his own gaze, allowing him to see the emotion and the fire in my eyes burn deep.

"_Perfect…_" I whispered, repeating his words as if to satisfy myself. "Indeed I am, Moebius." 


	9. The Paintings on the Wall

**Chapter Eight  
** _The Paintings on the Wall_

Moebius, the Time Streamer, survivor of Vorador's attack upon the Circle, soothsayer, advice giver, Guardian, watcher, interferer, manipulator, deceitful bastard. Moebius was all, neither, and yet everything. Each description fitted him perfectly. A strange man that manipulated others to his own gain, yet even I could not help but admire his skill of manipulation. For he had a subtle approach to such an element, a way in which he could manipulate others without them even knowing it. Little to say, I did not trust him, and from what I could gather neither did Mortanius, and when trust had to be betrothed into such a creature, it was done very carefully.

Moebius asked, "You know my name?" and then chuckled to himself.   
"And you know mine." Already I was beginning to analyse him for the 'man' he was, but I did so vigilantly, replying in a way that suggested I was playing a game with him. A game for my own amusement. And in return he played his own.

And from where she stood the girl looked upon those in front of her. That is all I did feel… a girl. For their powers were radiating, and indeed they were powerful, liable to crush anyone who was to cross their paths in a darkened manner. They all looked their parts, although Ariel stood out from them, for no dominance or fright did any part of her hold, instead it was apparent that she was the gentlest creature.

Around us the crystal tears of the sky - rain - continued to fall, but I did not mind it anymore, for it seemed to purify me, to wash away all the stains and evil that my father could not. There was no need to think of him anymore, for I was now here, accepted into my duty, and my past could be sealed away. Of course then I did not know that this would not be possible. I did not realise that my past would not settle until I myself put it to rest… _literally._

My clothes continued to cling to my skin, wet hair damp upon my face and head, hanging limply in tangled strands, whilst cold shivers ran up my spine. Were they quivers of coldness, nervousness or excitement? 

I looked deeply upon those that had stepped out upon my acceptance, these other Guardians. It is an obvious fact that I had never met any of them before, yet it felt like I already knew them, had already met them, and had already talked with them. Each one I gazed at gazed back at me with the same steady look, they too feeling that they had always known me, that we had always been together, and yet at the same time curious of this forbidden child. One thing was certain though, a feeling ran throughout the Circle, a feeling that suggested another piece of a broken oracle had been found. 

Within my mind I discovered that not only did I hear the strong hum of the Pillars, but also what seemed like… distant voices. Voices that were only relatives of this place, only apparent at the Pillars, and I would only hear them here.

The voices spoke in no language I was familiar with. However, despite their unknown accents, their unfamiliar tones and their distant dialect, I could understand them. They seemed to whisper, to speak each name softly into my ear and mind, each name of each Guardian I looked upon.

_'Mortanius'_ they murmured as I glanced at the figure I had become familiar with, _'The Necromancer, Guardian of Death.'_ Behind him stood the others. The firm, set appearance of _'Anacrothe the Alchemist, Guardian of States'_. Next to him _'Dejoule the Energist, Guardian of Energy.'_

Dejoule appeared to be a mere flickering of image of a girl. She beheld a shadowy smile upon her face as she looked at me. Nevertheless, I knew that it was but a masked appearance. For ingrained deep inside their seemed to be nothing more then pain. A pain that would waver across her face every now and then, yet disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. But it was there…

It seemed that another, _'Bane the Druid, Guardian of Nature'_, closely guarded Dejoule. Bane, one who seemed to be very much so a child of the earth, loved by nature in truth. And he was always watching over Dejoule like she was some delicate artefact, liable to fall apart should she loose concentration.

It was Bane who was the first one to speak, "Azimuth." he greeted, and his voice was earthy and rich with a riot of life. "Do you like the rain?"   
I glanced at him uncertain of his question, and even more uncertain of how to reply.

"Rain brings life to many things." He gave me a warm smile before adding, "Let it bring life to you."

A perplexing thing to say, but in many ways I understood what Bane had spoken of. In understanding I found slight irony and yet awareness. Bane stood to be the one who would give life; Mortanius, on the other hand, was the one who would take it. Indeed the representation of each figure suggested that we kept the wheel of life turning, whilst Ariel balanced it all out. Everything taken had to be returned.

This scene seemed complete, the acceptance and the meeting of the others. So what would happen now? I turned my gaze towards Malek. _'Malek of the Sarafan, Guardian of Conflict'_ whispered the voices. Malek, the one who was chained and constrained to his duty to protect the Circle, regardless. 

"Will you protect her, Malek?" That voice once more, that voice I could so easily despise, that voice of Moebius.

In response to the Guardian of Time, Moebius the Time Streamer, Malek walked towards me in an unfaltering stride. For moments I stood rigid to the spot, for Malek had an appearance that could come across in quite the foreboding manner. This figure garbed completely in armour, holding tight to his fierce weapon, now stood to be the only reference of the Sarafan. I have always found myself wondering what exactly he had been witness to, what he had seen, what he had experienced.

Before me he knelt with a proposition of unfaltering protection, loyalty and Guardianship. "Azimuth the Planer, Guardian of Dimension, it is my duty, and one I do swear by, to watch over and protect you from any of those that may wish you harm." In his spoken words so his loyalty to me, as well as the others, was sealed.

Yet, even though I had taken up my place, we were still incomplete. Nearby the Pillar without a Guardian hummed a lowly tune, one that remained upon a sombre note. Without its Guardian its own soul drifted in a lonely macabre world, and it looked to be joined with its own.

~~~

"We are all of the same age, Balance, Energy, Nature, States and I."   
"Six Guardians were lost to the blight that came forth into the Stronghold, with those lost so you were born."   
"Vorador."   
"Indeed."   
"And who exactly is Vorador?"   
"He is quite possibly legend within itself."   
"A Vampire. Will you not tell me about him?" 

Mortanius and I stood upon a ledge overlooking the watery depths of the scenery below, a vast scenery of water and cliff side.

"Perhaps such answers to that question are best left until suited times." The Necromancer replied, still gazing out upon the scenery that unwound before him. In return I sighed and reluctantly nodded.

These past few months of being within the Stronghold, which was now my home, I had tried my very best to extract what information I could from the others about the Circle's history, and particularly of what had happened. Ariel did not know much, or fear made her reluctant to say. Malek would remain quiet and eventually walk away from me, whilst Mortanius would just explain that it was not the right time to speak of such.

The other Guardians I did not question, in a way I was shy of them. Shy of their mannerisms and ways, for I was not used to being around 'children' of my own age, and it took me all my time to become used to Ariel. But again, I was reminded, we were more then just 'children' more like Ancient souls trapped within childlike bodies. Besides, I did not think my fellow Guardians of my age would know all that much.

As for Moebius, I never asked him for I was weary of his aloof manner, although he was never around all that much anyway. He was always out speaking fortified words to the Vampire Hunters who he rallied together with his nimble yet poisonous words. Times he was at the Stronghold were times he spent alone, locked deep within his own chambers. I could not help but wonder what it was he was plotting deep in secrecy, surrounded by his many instruments and souvenirs, whilst some rooms stood to be a historic museum of sorts. 

Meanwhile Mortanius gave me a distant caveat, saying that I should keep to myself and stay out of Moebius' way.

"Duty beckons." Mortanius spoke once more, now looking away from the scenery and instead looking at me. This statement concluded our time together. Where as I am sure that his duty did beckon I could not help but think that sometimes he stated this just so he could get out of answering my questions about Vorador and our predecessors, more so what the times were like before I was born into Nosgoth. 

"You have been here for five months now. Have you not taken a look around?" I gave a half nod, indicating that yes I had but had not fully been within every part of the Stronghold. 

"Then I am surprised you have not found the answers you seek upon the walls." he added in a mysterious fashion, before he turned and without another word left, leaving me completely alone to the vastness of the scenery below.

Five days I had been here, five months since I had first beheld the Pillars and met the others. Five months of limbo. Limbo being that I was not quite sure of what was to happen now, or what I was to do with myself. I came to realize that life within the Stronghold could be quite lonely despite the amount of Guards that dwelled here. 

What would happen to me, what was I to do? In all honesty I was perplexed, for Mortanius spoke of his duty yet no one ever highlighted mine. Was it something I had to figure out for myself? Or would someone show me how to wield these so-called 'powers' of mine? But then, who would? The ideal candidate, the former Guardian of Dimension, had long been dead, and now there was just me, Azimuth.

It would have been nice to consult Ariel upon my questions, but she was another one I hardly saw. When I asked Mortanius about her he would say that she was doing what was expected of her… whatever that was. Something to do with Balance, obviously. Nonetheless, I did feel alone, but then was I not used to that, being alone? And I am certain that in a way I enjoyed it. 

I had been given my own room next to everyone else's. Everyone else being Ariel, Bane, Dejoule and Anacrothe, for I am not certain where the other three slept, and that's if they slept at all. 

The first day I remembered clearly. I had had Ariel to accompany me around the place. After that day she attended to her duties and I was left to my own devices. The only thing left to do was explore. Maybe that was what I was meant to do, look around the place and settle in before it was I attended to whatever it was I was supposed to do. For no doubts I had a task I was meant to perform, for I could not imagine a Guardian's life to be a lazy one.

Beholding the sight below me I marvelled at the lakes depth. The lake served as semi-protection for the Stronghold in many of its ancient ways. I leant over and absorbed the billowing blues of the cerulean water and the ripples that echoed. The nadir of the water remained dark and eventually I slowly retreated, fearing in a childhood fantasy that the blueness would swallow me up.

Soon I was returning to one of the corridors that I had been walking in before, although this time I took another, branching off into a passageway I had not been down before. Laboriously this corridor seemed the same as any of the others, yet still I looked upon the architecture in awe. Who could possibly resist such beauty? I had after all, come from a squalled home where the rooms had been tiny and dark, with only small windows and little ventilation.

Then there was this place that I had been brought to, a total contrast in exquisiteness and atmosphere. They had said that this was now my own home, and these corridors were my own to walk down, and I was entitled to come and go as I pleased… or so I thought. For although the immense majority of the Stronghold I could wonder around to my own pleasing, where boundaries were limitless, there were also some places I could not go. And these places seemed to be ruled by Moebius alone.

It is with the beginning of this, that both the Guardian of Time's conflicting nature and my own, became evident.

In front of me came yet another wooden door. It was not any different compared to that of the others. The same wooden structure, metal hinges and bolt. I did not think nothing of it to push it open without hesitation, expecting nothing more or nothing less to just enter either yet another corridor of stained-glass and stone, or yet another courtyard. But one thing remained different compared to that of the other corridors, there were no guards here, but I thought nothing of it. 

And as I stepped out into what I had thought would be another endless walk I suddenly discovered how far wrong I was.

There was a collaboration of light that threaded its way down from single windows up high, and I entered the room with my eyes half closed, squinting to block out some of the yarns of light. Instead of yet another courtyard or corridor the child stepped out into something entirely different. It was a place I had not expected, a place of hidden memories and forgotten times.

The first thing to strike me as I stepped over the threshold was a feeling of absolutism. This was an imposing, magnificent place which stood to be something yet nothing, open, airy and with purpose. I became aware that I had walked into a chapel, one for remembrance and tribute, so it seemed. 

Upon the walls the most beautiful and delicate murals were displayed, and the finest I had seen throughout the Stronghold. Each one depicting a man, armour clad, much like Malek, and their helms were removed so I could see parts of their features as they knelt in what seemed like homage. These timeless images upon the wall stood to be what this chapel was in remembrance of. These painted pictures, the only things that remained of these men.

In front of one of these images I stood, running my hand along the wall as if to touch this figure. A man garbed like the others in a piece of equisetic armour that was designed for no one but himself. His appearance was not as glamorous as the others, and yet he still seemed set to be strong.

"_Melchiah…_" I whispered, running my hand along the painted image of his hand.

Who exactly had these men been? Who was this man who in a painting knelt before me? Why did they have a chapel that was almost shrine like, their images upon the walls as if through such paintings so life might be breathed back into them once more.

Looking upon them I knew that they were no longer living, and that they were dead.

I backed away, looking on all of those depicted, turning slowly as in the centre of the room I stood. Those strands of light filtering through the windows, whilst peace radiated from all corners of the room. An ideal place to rest and contemplate.

Each picture had a name to it, Melchiah's portrait being the first I noticed. And I marvelled at the detail that had been applied to each, the way that the artist had painted the seahorses upon Rahab's armoured chest plate. The faded emotion upon Turel's face - as if it was him who carried some unforeseen wound, the sharpness of Zephon's own features, and the gentleness upon Melchiah.

The last painting I looked upon was of the man Dumah. I could tell that in life this man had had a slight arrogance to him, for the artist seemed to have been able to catch that within their brush, and thus painted it delicately upon the canvas that was the wall. Yet the suggestion of arrogance was done with the utmost respect, done so as a tribute more then an insult. Nevertheless, something more caught my attention, for behind this knelt figure was another creature… what appeared to be a Demon.

That image enthralled me for a while. Unmoving I stared at the wall as if it was I expected the demonic figure to move at any moment.

It was within this instant that I released I had been speaking their names aloud. I wondered how this was possible, the fact that I, such a lowly wretch, was not gifted to read. And yet had I not spoken the name of Melchiah aloud? From there I had spoken the names of the other brethren, and then silence.

_This was the beginning._ It was the silence that made me realise, realize that I was not alone in this room. Something had been telling me the names of each man.

_'…Azimuth…'_   
Barely audible where the syllables of my name, and the vocals that had spoken it had been a mere whisper. It was like that within this world such a voice was not meant to exist, that to hear such a voice would deeply scar the lands, and through speaking it had broken a fabricated law. 

Around me the atmosphere fell, as if it were a haze, wrapping itself within the space I stood. The light, the light was withdrawing, retreating like even it was afraid, afraid of what ever the darkening within the light was.

I felt something close to me, as if something was wrapping around my essence. I moved from the spot where I had been standing and looked around. The core of coldness descended on me. It was like being in a fairly warm room, and then some careless fool had left a door open, allowing the elements of chill to breeze through. 

I felt a presence nearby, the source of this coldness.   
"Who are…"   
"They were great men, once." 

I turned quickly upon hearing that voice, my own sentence having been cut short.

"Each willing to give their own lives to protect and serve, to purify and to right the darkness into the light. And in return they live on."

Moebius appeared. The darkening atmosphere shifted its stance, not disappearing but moving to one side so that Moebius could pass.

'Live on?' I thought. 'Live on in what? In these murals, these pretty pictures?' Where Moebius saw lives well served, all I saw were lives well wasted. 

"I see not how someone could live on in just a painting." I replied as respectful as one could be.   
"And I would expect nothing more and nothing less of such a statement from a child." He was sharp with his response, where as my own comment had been plainly made, truthfully woven and that of my own opinion, Moebius' was cold and to the point and also made to ridicule me. Oh the irony, and although it was tempting to reply in such an acidic response, I had to bite back the words that I wished to speak. Words such as, 'You underestimate me, foolish old man.'

The sound of Moebius' pace upon the floor was the only thing left of sound now, for no words did he speak, and yet I waited. Waited for that voice to pick up, the strained, faltering chords of that voice that had been pulled thick over many lies throughout time. His voice sounded weak and yet he still managed to rouse the thoughts within peoples minds, telling them exactly what it was they wanted to hear, and then insulting them behind their backs. I have seen him do that often.

Along with the sound of his footfalls as he paced the room, glancing at the murals as he did so, there was also the sound of a gentle 'thump' from his staff, pacing it out in front of him as if it was his support. I despised that staff, for it was a queer thing, the top end shaped into a snakes head. It seemed the most fitting animal for such a creature as Moebius. And the snake's mouth remained open and stretched wide; whilst between its teeth it grasped a hold of an orb of some concoction.

When the sound of his pacing bored me I turned to regard the room once more. In doing so I noticed something that I had not yet observed. It was a statue, at the far end of the room, carved to represent a man, standing proud and holding tight onto his helm. From where I stood I could tell that it had been sculptured out of the finest stone. Why was it that all the other men had paintings and yet this one had a statue? What set him apart from the others?

I was about to go and look, but as I stepped forwards my path was suddenly blocked by the old Time Streamer.

"Be on your way Azimuth, and let me not catch you within this area again." He chuckled that idiot laugh, one where it is upon the edge of mockery and jest. "This is no place for children."

Again I bit back those ever threatening words that I so wished to say to him, and in time I would, but for now I retreated. He had won his wishes this time, but only this time…

The door was consequentially opened for me, and was locked behind me automatically as I left. Although before I did go I made sure that I glanced over my shoulder and passed onto him a scowl. In leaving one thing was manifested. As I left so it seemed the shades moved with me.

There was no resolution now and I had left exploration on the account that I had been told to be on my way and to never enter that room again. Disheartened and feeling misplaced I journeyed back to my room.

I had been told that this was now my home and yet I still could not help but feel omitted, omitted because I knew not what to do or how to act. Guardian was I but with no clear instructions on what tasks I was to perform. Again I wondered how the others had felt in first discovering what they were, how did they learn their tasks, their duties?

I sought comfort and there remained to be a way of gaining it. Like I had done many times before at home, I turned towards the darkness and sought solace with Them.

Upon the floor of my room I sat, willing myself into a deep medication. The door was bolted and the room remained deep in a suffocating darkness. I had found before, by withdrawing from the real world and retreating into my own I could find peace, a place to rest and a place to store my own anger.

The stone floor was cold and hard below me, but the cruelty of its touch did nothing to hinder me, instead it only made me focus my concentration even more. It seemed a highly easy task, and I knew not what I was doing until I felt the coldness of the bite from the dagger, yet, no pain.

I opened my eyes and glanced at the palm of my hand from where I had once again drew the dagger across my skin, reopening the wound that I had created a few days ago. Why was I doing this, what did I have to achieve? And then I understood… _It was through the flow of blood …_

Feeling lonely I longed to hear voices, any voices, more so the voices of my protectors, for They brought comfort to me, comfort that no one else could provide. Within a subconscious manner my mind had made a discovery. It was through the spilling of blood that I could hear them more clearly. Not entirely sure of how this method worked I presumed that maybe it was due to the meditation aspect that I would fall into.

So I drifted within the realms of my own mind, and as I did so, so it was I got my reply. 

_'…Azimuth…' _  
I was jolted abruptly out of meditation by the clear perplexity of the vocals that had just been spoken. That voice, it was the exact same one I heard briefly within the chapel. Intently I listened, and then suddenly rose from my place upon the floor. Stuttering around the room I wondered whether I should reply or acknowledge its presence within me, the blood dripping upon every surface I went near, leaving a crimson dotted path upon the stone, tracing the course I had walked.

The shutters on the windows were closed; this kept the room in darkness. Ever since I had arrived they had been closed, and I had not opened them. Punishing myself in an unseen way, like dwelling within the darkness was how it was meant to be. The darkness owned me, and I was to forever dwell within it.

_'…I can show you things…' _the voice went on to say. The vocals had lightened, and it did not seem as frightening as it had been before. Yet I was still cautious. Cautious because I did not know what it was, or what it wanted. It certainly did not seem like the others that spoke to me, for it seemed of more intelligence, and was able to converse more then what the others could. Where as the others sentences were limited its were not. 

I glanced around; upon the side were some candles that I usually lit at night before I settled into bed. With one grasped in my hands I lit it, my blood descending down the side of the candlewick and merging with the dripping wax. I held it aloft, distilling parts of the darkness as if I had expected to see some creature that had crept up to me within the shadows.

_'…You will not be able to see me Azimuth…'_ With such a statement I felt slightly taunted, a result of its own whim. It acknowledged me and seemed to observe me even though I could not see it, yet I felt a gaze fixed upon me. 

"Why can I not see you, why can I not see the others?"   
_'…We are not here, we do not exist within your world… We remain trapped…'_ It said. And now I wanted to know, hoping to gain answers if it was willing to answer my questions. 

"Why do you speak to me, why do the others watch? What are you?"   
_'You know what we are. But do you know what you are? You do not… do you? You can free us Azimuth as we can free you… Is that not what you want, Azimuth, to be free? To have all the questions you have ever known answered. You are one of darkness Azimuth, like us… Child shunned from the light, like us… But you do not have to suffer the darkness alone, Azimuth, you do not have to suffer alone…' _

Its words captured me like no one else's could. It understood me, knew what I felt. It said it could help me. 

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice upon curiosity.   
_'Hash'ak'gik.'_ It said. 


	10. The Circle

Azimuth, Mortainius, Malek, Ariel, Moebius, Anacrothe, Bane, Dejoule etc. © Silicon Knights, Eidos Interactive & Crystal Dynamics 

**Chapter Nine  
**_The Circle_

In a fine stupor the rat skittered drunkenly upon the floor, swaying from side to side in the after-effects of blood loss. Upon the floor droplets of blood bleached the stone, a fine-drawn out symbol, diminutive crimson, and though small, powerful enough to channel the amount of essence needed. 

I sat back, my legs folded, adorned in the robes of my status, whilst distantly the bells of the Stronghold chimed the hour. Satisfaction claimed me. The rat stopped dead in its scuttling drunken pace, and turned its head to suddenly acknowledge me, whiskers twitching.

"_It worked._" A small smile of ambition parted my lips. As if in reply the rat rose to sit on its haunches and regarded me, its whiskers still twitching. I was overwhelmed with the feeling of accomplishment and an assortment of emotions that had so often kept their distance from me. 

These emotions indeed were strange to me, strange and yet I relished the feelings I received. Each emotion I experienced so I kept the feeling close to me, feeling it for the first time, whether it be joy or a smile or even something I was much more familiar with, sadness. I understand that it is no surprise to say that when I was living under my father's roof accomplishment, achievement and pride, as well as other elements, were just some of the themes missing from our household.

Nevertheless, I will tell you quickly that I found in my early days that even accomplishment was a rare thing to find whilst living within the Stronghold. From my first days of living there I discovered that I was soon to be on my own a majority of the time, whilst every other Guardian attended to their duties. Of course I was used to being alone, but conflicting this thought was a desire that I wanted someone to watch over me. Perhaps those couple of days I had travelled with Mortanius had spoilt me. Yet if only there had been someone there to guide me in the right direction.

As a Guardian what was I meant to do? That was the main question I found racking my mind daily. There was no one to tutor me, and no other Guardian to turn to. I rarely saw Mortanius and my predecessor had been slaughtered a while ago. Once again I was Azimuth, Child of the Forgotten. I wondered whether I had been saved from the cruelty of my father or had simply been brought here as a punishment. Those days of loneliness made me quite desperate.

Forgotten is certainly how I felt when Ariel found me one morning. I stood where I had with Mortanius. Now however, I stood alone. The landscape seemed as meaningless as I felt, and the limitless bottom of the lake below only made me feel just as empty.

I could not help but feel that I had been brought here but for no purpose at all.   
"You took me from my home, my town." I said, sensing Ariel approaching me from behind. I had heard her footfalls upon the stone floor long before her arrival, and deep down I had hoped that it was Mortanius. The hope had faded when I remembered that Mortanius very rarely made a sound when he was walking. Mortanius was as silent as well… _Death…_

"You tell me that I am a Guardian, and then you leave me." I gritted my teeth and realised for one of the first times how bitter I felt. Did I blame them for taking me from my home? In truth I was glad of my departure if only for an escape, but now had I been brought here to suffer nothing but a meaningless living? The thought was torturous. I could not go through life without meaning something. I would not be satisfied until I proved my father wrong, that he was wrong in saying that my existence was meaningless!

Balance remained silent.   
"What am I am _meant_ to do? You tell me that I am the Guardian of Dimension, but how can I be when I do not even know what to do?" That had been the longest sentence I had said so far whilst in their company. How agitated and how abandoned I felt.

When Ariel spoke she spoke words that where plain and simple. "I am not sure." And her words surprised me. I admit that I expected her to smile, laugh at how silly I had been and then point me in the right direction, the direction I was to take in being the Guardian of Dimension. Yet here was Balance, the 'Keeper of the Circle' admitting to me that she had no idea of what I was meant to do. The silence I allowed to consume me only highlighted my disbelief.

"But… You are a Guardian… _Balance…_ Mortanius said you alone have control over us…" I had turned to face her now, my eyes focussing mercilessly upon the figure that was Balance. So suddenly the atmosphere around us had changed. I stood here at the edge of the landscape which also mirrored my own feelings. This edge, a pinnacle of abandonment and yet at the same time the edge of escapement. 

Quickly Ariel raised her hands as if to beg for peace. "It is true, I have control." She paused for a moment. "Azimuth, none of us have been taught in what we must do. When we were brought here there was no one to show us the way. It has always been this way, even when Mortanius, Moebius and Malek were called to the Pillars." She begged for solace and calm as my gaze bore into her, a cruel gaze, a trait my father had bequeathed upon me.

"When they were chosen they faced the same uncertainties that you do." She smiled and continued as my gaze began to fade with the revelation of the tale. "I have control in the way of Balance, constantly keeping everything equal. In all that Bane borrows from the land, in all that Anacrothe uses in his experimentations, so it must be replaced. That is how it _has_ to work. I have control, but nothing more. I am sorry Azimuth but your Guardianship is something you will have to understand in your own time." 

So it was. It seemed we were all brought to our Guardianship as pathetic wretches with not an ounce of understanding. So how was it we learnt? If there was no one to instruct us then how did we learn to become Guardians, to watch over the land? 

"And how did you come to understand?"   
"The Pillars, it was as if I was called."

Dearest Ariel, here she was again, drawn to talk about the Pillars. Her mind was always upon those awful monoliths of stone. Those pinnacles that we were unjustly bound to, tied to, shackled to, all to serve, and for what? How I despise them and all that they stand for. As a child I was naïve and willing to listen, open minded to what Ariel said about the Pillars, all false tales and all false talk. The feeble and weak creature Ariel was… what did it get her in the end? She could have been something more then what she was. In the end she died for what she loved and swore to Guard and protect. Yet they failed to _protect her. _

"Is that how I ended up here, did they call to me?"   
"Do you not feel drawn to the Pillars?" Again Ariel paused. "Why _Child of Glass_, do you regret being here?"   
The mention of 'Child of Glass' made me scowl, I recognised it to be the title that Moebius had given me upon our first meeting. Yet there was something more, the way she had said it as if a hidden annoyance was starting to show through. Did she sense my dislike of the Pillars? But then at that stage the dislike had been nothing strong. Perhaps she sensed something else entirely.

"Your father was unkind, but you must understand it was through fear…"   
"My father did not fear me, he despised me." Only hatred graced my vocals as I nervously pushed my fringe over the disfigurement. 

"You do not fit in with others, but you are not alone. Look around you, you are gifted Azimuth. Each of us are unlike the people of Nosgoth but that is not without reason." She indicated to my third eye, I knew this and in doing so I saw her nervously alter the veil she wore at the one side of her face. I understood what she meant, how each of us were marked in one-way or another all to indicate our Guardianship. 

Mortanius was almost corpse like, 'cadaverous' was the word I used to describe him in the beginning, and this was because of his link to death. Ariel explained that his 'power' took its toll upon his body. All of us would eventually experience this, myself included. Anacrothe's skin over time would become scarred. Mortanius would eventually loose all grips with the world of the living. Dejoule would be consumed fully by the energy that lingered close to her. Even I, Azimuth would suffer.

We all had to sacrifice something for what was considered our 'gifts'. For every piece of quintessence that Mortanius used, for every time he called upon his power, then so life was drawn from him. This was what Balance was. In everything taken so something had to be given back. A sacrifice we made for the Pillars, for our powers and for Balance. Little did Ariel know is that she would be the one to make the greatest sacrifice of all.

I have always considered the Pillars to be almost '_Vampiric_', for as I am bound to them so I feel like they drain me. For every part of quintessence I call upon so I know it takes a part of me as it does the others. And slowly I feel myself corroding away, and for what… a dying world?   
A world that _will_ die.   
It is inevitable. 

Ariel gestured with her hands and attempted to change the situation, having noticed that I was giving her a scrutinising gaze and glancing deeply upon the veil.   
"Do you think Mortanius had an easy life?" she said blandly and with no emotion. Here stood the child I had met in the beginning, the being that in reality was just as cold as me. 

"I can tell you that he did not. Imagine a child growing up as a Necromancer."   
My senses alit themselves upon hearing the Necromancer's name. It was not hard to imagine what Ariel spoke of, for I already beheld in my mind the scenes that must have unwound around Mortanius' young life.

"What else do you know?" I enquired hoping to find peace in the stories of the other Guardians. I needed to know that I was not the only one suffering. For so long it had seemed I had been a part of the darkness.

"Not a lot of our elders, but I know briefly of the others."

Ariel walked past me and approached the edge of the small balcony. She glanced down below at the lake and sighed. The sound of water could be heard in the background and somewhere out there, where life continued as it always had, a Guard was speaking to that of another. 

"Bane has no known parents." Wistfully Ariel selected one of the other Guardians to talk about. I allowed her to speak of them at her own free will, eager to hear everyone's tale and yet holding myself back from being too inquisitive. 

"He was found in woodland. He was alone. Yet it seemed nature had taken care of its Guardian."   
Such a small piece of information, and it seemed that that was all she knew about the Druid. 

"What about Dejoule?"   
Ariel stopped looking at the water below and turned slowly to regard me. The emotion that radiated from her was a distinct one of sadness. Such a wretched weakness that she allowed to show. 

"The daughter of a lord." she stated and in doing so I found myself thinking upon the Energist. Yes, she seemed to uphold herself in a noble manner, yet a noble who held such a secret. 

"He sought the help of the Circle when he could no longer care for her. Her power became overpowering. There were some incidents…"   
"Incidents?" I did not really have to ask; I already knew that this Guardian at such a young age had cost someone their life. 

"At times Dejoule can drain the energy of others if anyone gets too close. Her father had to think of his title, Dejoule was endangering…"  
"His position." I interrupted her and spoke bitterly once more, my eyes narrowed. It was a simple guess and it seemed that I guessed correctly though Ariel remained silent. 

"It cannot have been easy for him, a lord of the land with a supposedly '_mad_' daughter."   
I winced at Ariel's spoken word, the word of madness. I cared for very little of anyone including Dejoule even at that point within my life. Nevertheless, it still made an essence of iciness run throughout me when I heard about how Dejoule's father had simply cast her aside for the sake of his title. The iciness came not from my annoyance at her father; it came from the thought itself. Strangely I understood her father's way of thinking. That was where the coldness had come from.

In turning away I asked "What about the Alchemist?"   
"Anacrothe comes from a well educated family. If any of us have faired well from our pasts then it is he." She smiled at this and satisfied with the knowledge that conceivably I had learnt well from the stories in knowing that I suffered not alone, Ariel headed for the door. Nonetheless, my words, formed into a question she had hoped I would not ask, stopped her from walking any further.   
"What about Ariel, what about Balance?"

Inside I smiled in acknowledgement at her silence. For once she could not speak. The silence suggested that she suffered, and her sufferance emitted throughout us all. What pain could she know? '_No tragedies_', I thought. Did she even know of pain? How could one such as she experience such? There was not one part of a tragedy to tarnish her radiant smile, though her mysterious look that lay deep within her eyes told me differently. They say that your eyes are the windows to your soul.

She beckoned to me and I followed. Ariel would take me to a place that she hoped would answer my previous questions and make me forget about the one I had just asked. 

After many a winding corridor we paused in front of large wooden doors, crafted from the finest wood. I stood observing them, admiring them and feeling as if we had walked to the ends of Nosgoth. The Stronghold had proved to be larger then I had ever suspected - its many wings split off into many sections and many rooms, each one of them hiding a dark secret I knew the Stronghold kept hidden.

I felt Ariel place one of her hands upon my shoulders and thrust the doors open with the other. Behind these magnificent doors was a vast room hoarding an unbelievable amount of knowledge. Ariel had spoke briefly saying a lot of knowledge was stored in this room, this library. She said I could find all the knowledge I could want here, _providing I knew how to unlock it…_ I also knew a lot of lies where kept here. As my Guardianship continued I would also learn that there was some knowledge that not even this room possessed. 

We entered and my mouth opened in awe. Around us and in front there were many, many books. There were books of all sizes, some lay opened upon tables, and others remained sat upon their shelves. Dust collecting on them suggested that they had not been picked up for many years. 

Balance stood smiling, as if forgetting any moments before and watched my reaction. However, slowly her smile faded. I stood still and unmoving, unspeaking and deathly silent. Not the reaction she had hoped for, this I knew. To fully conclude our journey here, Ariel's motivation of bringing me to the library had been a useless one, for I could not read. 

"I must leave you now Azimuth."   
"What of Balance?" I asked forgetting the library for a moment.   
"You may use the books to help you search for yourself."   
"What of you?"   
There was no reply.

The journey to the library only stood to highlight one major point of my life within the stronghold. It was when my desolate situation became clear. Ariel left me there that day. She left me to the embrace of silence and an absolute eternity of none understanding. 

When Ariel returned she found me standing where she had left me, gazing longingly at the books. The day after a mentor was employed to tutor me in reading and writing, for as a Guardian one could not be illiterate, could one?

So it was I progressed in my studies with a new found desire and hunger to learn. I started with one tutor but within a couple of months I was under the guidance of two. It seemed that finally my calls had been answered, no longer completely alone. And I followed the guidance of two mentors, the mentor of this world, and that of not…

I continued to watch the rat with a mixture of interest as well as excitement. Four months I had been in Guardianship and this was the first time I had ever tried such a thing. I had wanted, _so wanted_ to try before, but it was only now that it said I was ready.

A few nights earlier I had tried. I had sat upon the floor and listened intently to all instructions, to every part of the lesson. I was eager and excited of the prospect of what it said _I_ had the power to do. Perhaps that was what went wrong; my eagerness pushed away my concentration. Whatever it was, nothing had happened that night and I had been very disappointed. In anger and exhaustion I had threatened to quit my Guardianship altogether. It had laughed at me and then explained that power did not 'blossom' overnight. But I was desperate, desperate to be something, to make use of myself. 

Nights later I retried what I had been taught, and now I experienced for the first time, the feeling of success.

The rat skittered around in a circle for a few moments, a joyful pace of diligence, glancing at me and recognizing my accomplishment. Once again that feeling of self-pride ran through me. The praise I received from Them was wonderful; it gave me the feeling of power. 

"Is it possible to go further? A rat is so small…" I smiled though it hurt. "…And unworthy of such, perhaps you could possess a much larger…" My words broke off as the door was opened and Anacrothe entered.

"Did you not hear the call?" The young Alchemist sounded aggravated.   
'_Do you not know how to knock?_' I found myself thinking, and if rats could growl I am sure my vermin friend would have done so.

Anacrothe stood firmly in the doorway scowling at me. The Alchemist and myself have never been friends, not even in the beginning. I found that Anacrothe was always scowling at me no matter what I did. When he spoke to me I felt as if he was mocking me or looking down on me. He hated me and the feeling was quite neutral. As I grew I would find myself laughing at his hatred.

I glanced over at him standing in the doorway, arms folded. I had thrown one of my books over the drops of blood. The rat meanwhile, had darted into one of the folds of my garb.

"Call?"   
"Council Azimuth, Council. Did Ariel not tell you?"   
I bit my lip and recalled a distant memory, a day before where Ariel had briefly told me of a Council we would be having. Now I knew why I had listened intently to that distant chime of the bells, because that signalisation of the hour had meant something. 

Anacrothe let out a weary sigh; ah the aggravation was derived from the fact that he had been sent to find me. I studied him as the light from the hallways cast his shadow upon my floor. No much the child then any of us, captivated in the body of a young Mortal, trapped in the body of a child. Yet he spoke as the rest of us did, like we were much older then our birthing age, though Anacrothe always sounded and always looked older then any of us, more then likely because of his experimentations. 

He waited now, intolerantly continuing to scowl at me, his fingers tapping impatiently at the doorframe. His impatience, in some distant way, reminded me of my father. Swiftly I got to my feet, and ran my hands down my garb, straitening out the creases in my robes.

"Azimuth, the Circle waits for you." Those words finalized his relentless mind. If he found me annoying I wished that he would say so. Regardless of his thoughts though, Anacrothe remained silent, and so in following him we went to Council.

News developed of a young man who had the most marvellous mind, quick thinking as well as empathetic; and the boy had caught the Circles attention. If I had the emotion to care about others I knew I would have pitied him.

Moebius looked at Mortanius with a glint of satisfaction, a potent smile upon his lips. "The final Guardian." He gestured and stood before the table we all sat at.  
"Right again Moebius." Ariel added with a smile. "Your knowledge of knowing is a true gift to the Circle, to the Pillars as well as to our Council. We applaud you."

I gazed at them all none passively, an expression of blankness clear on my face.

"Your words are kind my dear Ariel." the Time Streamer replied and deep inside I hoped we would not be subjected to another long moment of him blathering on. His voice I found quite intolerable. "But I am here to do Nosgoth's bidding," he continued. "I am here to serve the Pillars and the land."   
The snake they say, always lies.

I found the Time Streamers knowledge, understanding and essence of what he called 'just knowing' more then disturbing. I did not like to think that someone was already ahead of me. I despised the thought that someone else understood a majority of what was going to happen and that I did not.

I glanced over at Mortanius who held an expression like myself, emotionless. In looking at him I attempted to figure out what he was thinking?

"So tell us, Moebius, where is the ninth Guardian?" It was Bane who asked this and now I turned to look at him. In this question being asked we were subjected mercilessly to a string of chuckles derived from Moebius. At this point I slouched in my chair and kicked one of the legs of the table. A glance off Death made me abruptly stop. 

"Vasserbünde is where you will find our last Guardian. A young boy. The parents have called Mind, Nupraptor."

Ariel smiled. I knew that she had always been able to sense where the last Guardian could be found. However, perhaps she felt that it was not in her duty to say, and in doing so allowed her fellow Guardians to search those that were lost to the Circle. Perhaps the Pillars had always told her where we all were… Our Pillars calling out to us, their voices stretching across the many miles of Nosgoth's landscape, calling for the lost parts of themselves - feeling as incomplete as we did. If that was the case why had they not collected me earlier?

The council had long been ended and yet I still sat in my chair. I rested my hands on the table and bowed my head whilst my mind went over everything that had been said. The strands of thought lingered mostly on Moebius' words, Moebius' knowledge. I knew I had to be careful of the Time Streamer. I recognised that there was something hidden within him, perhaps a part of him that was not unlike myself. Nevertheless, a majority of the time I regarded him to be a foolish old man dealing with something that not even he could comprehend.

'_Azimuth they have named the child. Wretched and despised by all, that is the Guardian of Dimension, that is the Child of Glass._' I wondered whether that is what Moebius had said to the others when they had learnt about my where it was I could be found. I could see it, all those scenes that unravelled, all those scenes that brought it up to the point of where Mortanius stood on my father's doorstep.

"I seek to speak with Azimuth, your daughter." The Guardian of Death had stated. He had not been asking for my father's permission to speak with me, he had been requesting. Mortanius had sounded polite in this, but I knew, as I hid in the shadows and watched this scene, that he could make demands, and they were not demands to be ignored. 

My father had laughed cruelly. "What do you want with the wretch?" The child I was then, hid in the depths of the corner watching my father at the doorway and watching the stranger even more so. This strange figure, as if sensing my stare, suddenly looked past my father and returned my gaze. I had thought that I had been well hidden and yet been proven wrong. Not surprising that he had seen me really, for he seemed to be every much part of the shadows as I was in hiding in them. 

"Do you know who I am?"   
Father had not replied to that question and for the first time in my life I had seen him forced into silence. I remember thinking of how this figure was my rescue and that when he left I would fight with every part of strength left within me to go with him.

"Is this how all of us are found? A council is called Moebius speaks of what he knows and others set out to retrieve the 'lost' Guardian?"   
"Yes." replied Ariel. She stood behind her chair gripping the back of it loosely with her hands. "How did you expect it to be?"   
"But it was different for you?"   
"Yes." 

In that moment it became clear that now Ariel was ready to talk. I had always wondered whether I would hear Ariel's story or whether it would always remain hidden to me. Something seemed to have triggered her off in preparing herself to speak about it though. Maybe she just thought that now was the time.

The motion of her removing the veil was done in a clumsy moment. The moment seemed to move little by little with baited breath as slowly the veil slid away and dropped to the floor. So suddenly I was shown Balance's disfigurement. 

I could not help but stare when the veil was removed. The first thoughts that came into my mind was how my father would have reacted if I had been a child with such a mark. Quite possibly I doubt I would have reached the age that I had. So many times I had been self-conscious of my own defacement and worrying about trying to cover it up… But this? How did one hide such a feature as this?

Ariel smiled but only one side of her face did so. The other side did not move at all. The right side of her face, the part that had been visible, was just as anyone else's was. The left side… _was another story entirely._

The left side of her face was enough to make anyone stare with their mouths wide open, for there was no skin there. There was nothing but bone. Upon the left side Ariel's skull was showing. It was emotionless, harsh and cold. I noticed that on that one side of the face Ariel was paralysed and that all emotion she wanted to show had to be displayed upon the right where there was skin and muscle.

"This is Balance." Ariel declared breaking my stunned silence as well as my stare.

Ariel lifted her hand and touched the skin on the right side of her face. "Life." she stated, and then touching the bone on the left side she said "Death." 

Now I understood why she had worn the veil.

"I am both, life and death… I am what is between the elements. I am what always makes sure that everything equals out. And it _must_ always be that way, Azimuth, _always…_   
_…There must always be Balance…_" 


	11. A Child For Balance

Chapter Ten  
A Child For Balance 

It was dark outside. That is what she always remembered, the darkness and what the darkness brought. Somewhere out there was an infinite number of things that lurked in the darkness of Nosgoth, and not just vampires either. No, for there was also illness and sickness, Plague.

Malady had come. With outstretched fingers she had embraced those unlucky. She had scavenged throughout the town, looking and searching, taking the young, the old and those that were weak. Some of them had died on the streets. That was one image that remained strong within her mind. She had watched them, and watched as their bodies were carted off elsewhere to be burnt.

Regardless, the Plague had not lasted long for it had been weak. Everyone spoke of how 'lucky' they were for such a blessing, everyone except a child watching over the last lingering breaths of her parents.

A small child sat by the bedside of those dying, her mother and her father. She had been here since the beginning, forever watching, forever knowing that she would also be there for the end. Around her was a gathering of some people, all of them speaking of 'hope', whatever 'hope' was. This child was not afraid to shy away from the truth; they did not have to lie to her. They did not have to pity her, and smother her with their falsehoods. In secret she yearned for the coldness of reality if not only to embrace the truth. She knew and understood what was happening better then any of them. No one could stop the procession of Death. 

The child slid down from her chair and walked to the window. Those who watched over her parents did not see her leave; they were too caught up in their own emotions. The room was dark and dingy, and even the light that shone from the candles seemed grubby. Regardless, the atmosphere was no longer suffocating as it had been when Malady had first struck. Instead it was now cold, almost icy, and everyone stood there with their arms folded, trying to keep warm, apart from the child. 

She stood straight and rigid – though on tiptoe, her hands lightly touching the ledge of the window, her fingertips resting in the dirt and dust of many days where cleaning had been neglected when the whispers of death had been apparent. The house had once been well looked after; it had been a place of warmth and cheerful days that were now but shadows of what felt like nothing more then a dream.

When the child was left alone to her thoughts there were moments when she was not sure what to think or how to feel. Her humanity, the sorrow she felt, the natural weakness of sadness, was challenged by the cold and harsh reality of knowing that this was what had to be. It was the side of acceptance that normally took control.

Here were her parents taking their last breath, and yet… Yet she was divided unevenly between the sorrow and a more distant yet dominant understanding. An understanding that she found hard at first to… understand. In the end she did understand, and she came to learn that the sorrow she felt was due to the reason that she could not mourn them.

Cold was this element that clung to her. It made her feel bitter. It told her that this was how things were meant to be, that this is what was meant to happen. 

…For Balance…

This was how the last days and nights passed. But this was not how it ended. Many do not see the end, but she did. She saw the end. She saw it as she looked out of the window. She saw as it walked up the street and to their house, completely unnoticed. She heard it as it opened the door, although she knew she was not meant to, for no one was meant to hear or see Death.

And up the stairs it came, unfaltering in its pace, and she saw and heard it.

It was the site of seeing what she did that pushed the rational thinker within her away. The older child she had always seemed was lost in moments to the natural balance of who she truly was. She became the child who she was meant to be, but five, if that, in age. 

In the defensiveness of the situation she moved towards the doorway, looking upon those two still figures in their bed as she did so. How ominous this scene, two seemingly empty shells, wrapped in blankets. Those who had once been her parents now only resembled the dying. Around them were the figures that seemed just as lifeless, simply empty silhouettes.

She stood by the door and opened it, scowling at the darkly clad figure that had just come up the stairs. Those in the room thought the child had opened it for ventilation, to allow some fresher air into the room. True, the air in the room was already cold but it was far from fresh. Instead the coldness seemed almost stale. Though that was soon to change.

"You may not enter here," she had stated. A tiny child, a small figure compared to that of the ominous shadow that now loomed over her. 

The figure had found a command within the child's voice that had almost made him go no further, almost. She had certainly made him halt within his task, to stop within his pace. With a smile he acknowledged Balance and silently told her that he was rightfully doing what was his to do and that in this act she need not worry as Balance was being upheld. Despite the consequences, the child did not, or more accurately – would not, understand. And the figure she faced acknowledged her young and bewildered mind that battled with the representation of Balance that lay deep inside of her. 

"You cannot come any closer. I permit you not to enter."  
He knew that whilst she stood where she did and allowed him not to enter then he would not be able to. Dear Balance, innocent child, how confused she was. 

"Ariel. Come child, step aside, you alone know how this must be, for Balance," said the figure. His voice was like the remnants of dust, laced throughout with cobwebs, age old vocals suspended symbiotically in time.

"Ariel." There was a voice from within the room. One of the five figures that had gathered around the two dying figures called to the child in the doorway. "Ariel, do not linger in the doorway." The voice was weary and soon the figure that had spoken forgot the child once more and returned to her place next to her mistress's bedside.

The child glanced at her mother's servant and at the others before frowning. Did they not see the man who had just entered their house without permission, come up the stairs and was now trying to get into the room? 

There was a pause that embraced the stillness of the room and the quietness of the setting. Gradually the child's gaze was lowered, she bowed her head submissively. The will of not permitting this figure to enter the room slowly faded from her. With empty eyes she regarded the scene. If there was to be any desperation for this moment then it remained to be within her. A slight pinprick of a desperate thought rested upon her shoulders and for the first time she took notice of the coldness within the room.

They did not see this figure, did they? If they did then they took very little notice of him. Perhaps he was not really there; maybe he only existed within her mind. Maybe this was madness. Maybe this was the asset of grief, her way of mourning, this aloof aspect of insanity.

She felt a hand rest upon her shoulder and through that touch so it felt as if she had plunged into the depths of frigid, cold water. The feeling that seized her was glacial, and it numbed all senses. She knew that from Death's touch she should have been afraid, she should have been terrified, and although she was frightened all other emotion was washed away. It was strange how the coldness of such a touch brought no dreadful or awful emotion, but instead a certain calmness.

One of the servants shifted within his stance, shuddering and rubbing his hands together in hope of keeping warm. The child glanced at them and then turned back to the figure who raised one skeletal finger to his lips and bayed her quiet.

She knew what he was going to do, why he was here. If he was just an element of a madness that was consuming her, then obviously madness enjoyed tormenting her. But she remained quiet and moved to one side thus allowing the figure entrance.

This was right, there had to be an element of balance and this was but a small part of what made balance complete. And she knew that no matter what, even at such a young age, and even if it meant loosing those she loved… there had to be balance. This was her sacrifice.

She left that house with those thoughts residing inside her. She left without hesitation, there was nothing left here for her now, and so fled with the assets of reality echoing around her. 

She had asked for the harshness of this, she had asked for the truth… Yet now that it had been given to her she was ashamed with herself over the fact that she could not face it. How was she expected to? It is not a question that entered her mind but instead my own. As I listened to Ariel relay her weary tale to me I found myself questioning her thoughts. Why did she punish herself so? Why was she so ashamed that she had fled the scene, knowing that behind her the threads of life that had been woven together to create the tapestry of her parents lives had been broken. That the books that their lives had been written in had been closed, closed forever. She was a child that is all. A child that was to face the responsibilities that even an adult would find hard to handle. 

But I could not pity Ariel. I am not sure why, perhaps it was the bitterness within myself. Maybe it was the thoughts of 'if I had to suffer then so does everyone else'. But I repeat, I am not sure why pity was far from me. All I can say is in honest truth that I lost the essence of pity a long time ago. I left it behind when I fled my father's house, and I have never been able to find it again. But then, I have never searched for it and it has been too frightened to search for me. 

They did not see her leave the room; they did not hear her hurried footfalls echoing throughout the corridor and down the stairs, and they did not see or hear her tears.

The night was cold, the streets empty, the sky clouded over and threatening snow. All the elements bound themselves together and redoubled the overall essence of the remoteness that resided within her. There was this emptiness in the pit of her stomach, a vortex that swallowed all her emotion. Her tears had disappeared but now she felt nauseated, and through the lack of emotion and through acceptance that Balance helped her to understand – she felt less then human.

As she made her way through the streets she considered this. She should cry, she should mourn, it is what everyone else did, and it is whatever one else was doing. But she knew that she was not 'everyone else'. 

Time passed as time often does. She did not know how long she had wondered the streets for, only that by now the snow was beginning to fall and that as she sat upon the floor she heard someone call her name.

It surprised her to see him standing there, she had not expected him to come and look for her – or had she? Her first meeting with him was very much like my own, Ariel thought that Death had come for her.

"So this is how it ends," she said not moving from the place that she sat, perhaps the cold had frozen her to the cold cobblestones. "I die in the streets having just fled from the truth, reality and what must be…" The child paused and examined her hands with an expression of sadness. Her voice was distant, aloof, not how a child's should be at all.

"I know this must be, they tell me that it is for Balance."

"Do you know who you are, Ariel?" said the icon of Death, speaking for the first time in meeting her upon the empty streets of a town. 

"How do you know my name," she said, now looking up at him, trying to see if she could see any face within the hood that was drawn up and over it. "I know not of you?"  
"I know of everyone." He stood not far from her now. "Though we have never met before you know of me as I know of you."  
"How so?"

Once again he asked her the same question as before, the same question he had asked me upon the night I had met him. "Do you know who you are?"

There was silence and both of them allowed it to settle like the snow that fell around them. She sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, and he watched her, watched the expression of her face as the realisation struck, her eyes growing wide.

"I have always known," she stated truthfully, plainly and blankly. He had not had to say anything, she had already known the truth, she had always known. All emotion was now gone from her voice; this was the girl I had first met, the distant, mystic child.

The figure knelt next to her. "Known?" he asked.  
"You are the Guardian to the Pillar of Death… They say that you are called Mortanius."  
He nodded slowly and replied, "And you are Ariel, the Guardian to the Pillar of Balance."  
"Yes," she replied. "We have been waiting for someone to come. Have we been lost for long?"  
"A couple of years, but what matters now, Ariel, is that you have been found." 

He stood up and began to walk away knowing full well that the child of Balance, without hesitation, would follow. 

That night, after the Circle's council, after Mortanius departure to Vasserbünde in search of the Guardian of the Mind, I lay within my chambers. I stared at the ceiling, Ariel's words running throughout my mind, her voice sounding haunted. 

"It was the plague," she had said to begin her story, and I had been so certain that she had left due to her father. 

"No Azimuth," Balance had said in retort to my thoughts, as if automatically knowing the thoughts that coiled poisonously around my mind. Maybe I had allowed some emotion to escape through my eyes. 

"It was not like that. I do not remember much about my family, but I know that when they were alive I could never want for anything."  
"Alive?"  
"I was found wondering the streets by Death. I had seen him take my parents and had fled."

I imagined Ariel's story deep within my mind, I recalled her words, allowing them to drift in their dreamy particles through my mind. The setting of her tale I imagined to be a home that had always been a welcoming and joyful place. Nevertheless, in Ariel's story the essence of 'joy' was now far away, an element that was nothing more then a long forgotten memory.

"Were you?" I had brought a hand to my face to indicate her disfigurement.   
"Born like this?" Ariel laughed and then shook her head. "No, for some reason I was not. It was only until I was accepted by the Pillars that this…" She held a hand to her face as if the disfigurement was burning her. "…was shown…"

That was it. That was where our conversation had ended and she had walked off. I watched her leave the room seeing her in a new light and now with a new understanding, and also knowing that still I did not pity her.

At some point in the night I must have drifted off into sleep. I dreamt that I stood in a vast hall. It was dark but I could make some things out like the fact that around me where beautiful, elegant candleholders, seven in total, all surrounding me.

As I looked around I took notice of beautiful stained glass windows that adorned the walls. These, I noticed, were not the windows of the stronghold, for they did not depict any 'angelic' Sarafan. And this hall was not any present within the stronghold either.

My observation of the hall continued and soon I became aware that the candleholders were not the only things that circled me. Great shadows loomed close by, but I was not afraid, I knew them and they would not harm me.

The third eye shot open, and just as I was to look and acknowledge those who kept me company, those who I would see no longer as shadows, I woke up.

I am not sure how long I slept for only that when I awoke I was cold, my blankets having fallen upon the floor, and annoyed at being awoken. Without thought I reached down to pick up my blankets off the floor.

And that is when the screaming began.


End file.
